


Dawn of Alliances

by Daedamnatus



Series: Dawn of Alliances [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Sith Era - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Asylum, Belsavis, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Manaan, Marr Lives, Pre-KOTFE, Rattataki, Sith, Thexan lives, Twi'lek, Wild Space, Zakuul, kotfe, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 133,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daedamnatus/pseuds/Daedamnatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Wrath has taken his title and defeated his master while Cipher Nine has barely recovered her own identity and seeks to rebuild her life. Their timelines cross. Neither of them are prepared for their twisted fates but as their lives change, war still rages on. </p><p>Joining forces with Darth Marr, the Wrath and the Agent begin working with an unlikely ally - the survivor of a sacrifice, a prince of Zakuul.</p><p>[Leads up to the beginning of KotFE]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Belsavis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darth Skordus, after becoming the Wrath of the Emperor, has declined to join the Dark Council. He goes on a personal leave to improve his mastery of the Force.
> 
> Cipher Nine has defeated her arch nemesis and lost her identity. She goes on a personal quest to rebuild herself and collect assets.

 

 

The rain drummed against the glass panes of the Dromund Kaas apartment towers. Lights faintly blinked on building roofs across Kaas City, the only other sparse movements visible from above were air speeders. Distant ships were hidden by the heavy gray clouds of the planets constant downpour.

The Emperor’s Wrath looked over the cityscape from the dry comfort of his home. The place he called his stronghold was brand new, barely decorated and empty. All he needed there was a firm bed and sustenance.

Essan had taken the Sith name of Skordus, symbolic of the chaotic nature of his father. He had barely known the man. Rattataki died young, and the young grew old quick. There was much to do today.

He boarded his ship to launch departure for Belsavis. Once there, he took his speeder through the icy canyons and green patches, swooped near a herd of feral varactyl, stopped at the entrance of a bunker. There was still a number of artefacts to be discovered in the depths of Belsavis, below even the deepest levels of the prison. The temple was turned into a tomb, and the prisoners were its guests.

Masked behind the faceless image of the Sith Acolytes, wearing the hooded armor and robes of gray and black, Darth Skordus ignited his lightsaber, blazing blood-red blade ready for battle.

Prisoners charged him as soon as he’d passed the first elevator. They fired their blasters at him. He was already in a state of semi-transe, barely registering his own movements but his lightsaber batted off the laser bolts coming from left and right. A Duros and a Trandoshan lost some limbs, felt to their knees and were rapidly killed with a slash to the chest and neck. Skordus paced with determination around the dark maze that was the buried temple, visiting each room, dispatching more pirates and criminals. There was more gun fire, a scuffle of voices shouting and screaming. Skordus went towards the origin of those sounds, at the end of a hallway. The shouts stopped as well as the blaster fire. Only one presence was left, and its Force imprint was singular among those, twisted and cowardly, of the outlaws.

But there was none to see but a handful of scattered bodies on the ground. Essan stood in the middle of them, deactivated his lightsaber to be in the dead silence.

“Show yourself,” he commanded. “Assassin.”

A breath, as if someone had been practicing apnea, and the sound of a cloaking device being switched off. In front of him appeared a medium-heighted Twi’lek woman in dark garb, holding a vibroknife in one hand, and a box in the other. The latter showed carvings of ancient script.

“Who are you?” she asked with a sneer.

“I am Darth Skordus,” he answered. “The Emperor’s Wrath. You’re a spy.”

“Cipher Nine, Imperial Intelligence,” she corrected, going over one of the corpses to loot his ammunition. “My spying days are over, my Lord. I’m just here for the credits.”

“This artefact you carry. How much do you think it is worth?”

She stopped and looked at him defiantly. “I don’t care about old religious trinkets. Did you come here for it?”

“Do not try to trick me...” Still clutching his lightsaber, Essan prepared to counter with his will. The orange-skinned woman squinted her blue eyes at him.

“I would give you the artefact, and in return you would give a good word from me to the Emperor. Where is the exit?”

Essan hesitated one second before taking the box from her offering hand.

“You’re almost there. I’ve cleared the way out.”

The object was inside the box. He could feel the extra weight, and it almost attempted to call to him through the Force. Cipher Nine walked passed him, barely avoiding to brush against his armor as she paced with confidence over the trail of dead bodies.

“The Emperor doesn’t bother with lowly servants such as you or myself,” he growled.

“In that case, you owe me. My Lord.”

She stopped again to inspect the pockets of a dead pirate. She noticed he was still watching her.

“I’ve been in this cave for two days collecting data. I found the box in he lowest level, if that’s any use to you.”

 

*

 

If that unfortunate encounter wasn’t enough, his mood was pitted when he found the same Twi’lek reporting back at the snowy and desolate Domination Outpost. When he checked in with the local Imperial base, the mission terminal notified him that he would have personnel report to him. As their superior in command, it was his duty to accept their work in his service. The computer selected the officer nearest his position.

“Cipher Nine, reporting.”

He turned to face the orange-skinned Twi’lek. Her face showed nothing more than a monotonous gaze. Essan took a deep breath.

“I do not require that you work for me, Cipher. Be on your way.”

Not replying immediately, he waited and she appeared genuinely confused.

“I’m looking for work,” she said, insisting. “My Lord, all you need to do is confirm my service status under your orders, that way I will get paid.”

“And I will do that.” He tapped the confirmation key on the terminal. “And payment for the holocron?”

She checked her datapad before stowing it back to her belt. “There’s more of those, on many other planets. Admit that it would be far more interesting to see who gets the most of them first.”

Essan frowned at her confident smirk.

“Most of them are stored in the Sith Academy on Korriban. The few that are undiscovered lie in dangerous places. Such quests are not to be taken lightly.”

She folded her arms and stood in the cold silence while snowflakes landed upon her head and shoulders. Essan mustered his self-control to prevent a chill to run down his spine.

“Or we could go bounty hunting,” she said. “Remember that you owe me, and I only hunt big game. Having the Wrath by my side would profit us both.”

“Catching random criminals does not contribute to the war effort,” Essan objected.

“How are holocrons helping us, then?”

He was looking forward to the hours of studying, meditating, translating and research once he would be back home with his artefact. During that time, the Republic still etched its patch towards the destruction of the Empire, and he would have only done self-improvement.

“You make a good point.”

“It’s fortunate that I’m with Intelligence.”

He smiled behind his mask. They were agreeing on going after the most wanted outlaws of the galaxy and not to seek ancient history about the Force users.

“Let’s get to it, then,” he said.

“Good,” she replied with relief in her tone. The headed towards the planetary transport. “First, we need some supplies and intel. A quick jump to the Fleet will do.”

He hesitated, climbing on board after her. “How about we meet at a rendez-vous point?”

“What would be the point of having the Wrath on my team? With your name on the paycheck, we get the highest prize.”

“You are mistaken, Cipher. Imperial assets are scarce and we shouldn’t exploit them.”

“That’s where you are mistaken,” she corrected. They were led by the transportation droid to sit in the passenger cabin while the ship started the ascend. “The Hutt Cartel deals with credit movements and launders its dirty profits through Imperial deals. Us taking their money is only putting the credits back where they belong.”

Essan wasn’t comfortable sitting and arguing with someone in public. Luckily, the shuttle was empty. No one visited Belsavis anymore.

“How is it that someone as capable as you must work outside your assignments?”

Cipher Nine observed the silence for a couple of seconds, as if debating with herself whether or not to respond.

“I’m between assignments,” she calmly said. “I just finished dealing with a particular individual who attempted to kill me after destroying my identity.”

“Another spy?”

“You could say that, but he did so much worse than spying. Needless to say he got what was coming to him.”

During the next pause Essan sensed the raw hatred and anger that flowed from the woman sitting opposite from him. Her serene appearance was admirable.

“And now you are working with a Sith,” he commented.

Her cyan eyes fixed the ceiling lights for better alternative to the missing viewports.

“We’ll see how that goes.”

 


	2. Tatooine

 

The Cartel Bazaar was noisy with music and chatter in different tongues, from mercenaries to pirates, guns for hire and spies. Tayleen walked through the groups of negotiating assassins and bounty hunters, most of them stepping aside and oggling her from head to toe. Skordus barely got noticed in her trail. Only Imperials and other Sith would gaze a little longer. A few would give a slight bow of their heads.

She reached the bounty terminal and scrolled through the list with her index finger. She felt more than she was aware of the Sith’s gaze over her shoulder, then selected the name she sought to open the bounty contract. The picture of the target was missing, but all she needed was confirmation of his name: Drakal Verrl.

“A smuggler,” commented Skordus behind her. The electronically enhanced voice did nothing to soften his coarse tone. “What grand crime has he comitted?”

“It’s not the bounty we’re after,” she answered, fighting to keep her mouth from sneering. “The people who know where Verrl is also know where I can find the real prize.”

The Human male’s face was forever etched in her memory since the day she caught sight of him sneaking out of her dead parents’ home. She was only ten at the time. Tayleen put in her ID chip to pick up the contract.

“We’re going to Alderaan,” she said, turning to face the faceless mask of the Wrath. He stood over a head taller. “Should we take my ship or yours?”

Unsurprisingly she was to follow him into his ship and, walking up the Sith’s docking bay, she cursed her politeness and respect for hierarchy. She sent a quick message to Vector Hyllus and Kaliyo to put them up to speed. However long her mission would last, she was going to miss her crew and the comfort of personal privacy.

The Fury class starfighter was not as spacious as her Phantom. Tayleen was told to sit in the cockpit while Skordus went to his cabin. She stood feet away from the man named Quinn. His well-pressed uniform looked like it could cut through glass.

“I see a recurring type among our guests,” he spoke as formally as a backstabbing court counselor.

“There’s a similar character on my ship,” she replied, “he does my laundry and serves meals to the crew.”

Quinn raised an offended black eyebrow and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the moles on the side of his face. She had seen holo pictures of him in Intelligence reports. He had applied several times to be promoted to the Central Headquarters, from his base on Balmorra. Evidently, none of his applications ever pulled through.

“The business Lord Skordus has with you is not mine to meddle in, unless he would require my assistance. Just know that while in his presence you are, as I am, under his authority.”

Tayleen let out a pestered growl and dropped to sit in the copilot’s chair, shifting her vibroblade to assume a casual but menacing position. The pale man standing straight like a pole turned his arrogant gaze away to pretend working on the navigation computer.

“I am under no man’s authority,” she finally told him. “I command my own team and plan my own operations. Darth Skordus deserves my respect as an equal, not a servant.”

“I highly doubt he would see it that way.”

Both silenced when boots hit the metal floors and Skordus appeared in the cockpit, going straight to the galaxy map to set the launch.

“My Lord,” began Quinn. “May we have a word?”

They looked at Tayleen simultaneously but only the masked Sith lingered. Quinn stood stiff and kept talking in his sharp enunciation.

“I fear we may have an impending conflict of interest. This, of course, is entirely a professional matter.”

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and got up to leave. “No need to say it twice.”

After all, she could as well do her mission on her own. There was plenty of help coming her way once she would call back her team. But as she stepped out of the airlock, the filtered voice called.

“Cipher.”

She watched Skordus stepping out of the ship and onto the dark, lackered platform. His gait was pressing. The Wrath closed in to speak to her, lowering the sound of his speech.

“I gave you my word.”

“Sometimes, we change our mind,” she said. “It’s for the best.”

Her footsteps felt heavy when she walked back to the main elevator. She lengthened the distance between her and the Sith, resisting the pull of curiosity as she wondered if he was looking at her leave.

*

Tatooine was just as she had left it, months ago: hot, harsh and hostile. Tayleen fought off an Imperial trooper who felt chivalrous to the point of pretending to be her bodyguard all the way from the spaceport to the nearest cantina. Her knuckles hadn’t recovered that she knocked the mind out of a handsy Rodian between the bar and the refreshers. The scuffle made a ruckuss, blaster pistols blared out from all corners. Tayleen stood with her hands apart, next to her vibroblade and detonator.

“Hold it there, beautiful,” growled a guard, grabbing her arm to drag her out. “Are you going to cause problems around here?”

“Never,” she replied in a raspy, menacing tone. “But I might make an exception on you.”

A chair tumbled as a man took flight, running with his head down until he was out of sight. The basement. Tayleen yanked her arm from behind her and ran after her target.

Ulen Greyshi. That was him. She’d recognize that patchy beard and short, round ears anywhere.

She lept over a table, knocking drinks down as she did so, and skipped the stairs towards the basement part of the cantina. The music there was a little louder and the light was less than dim. People there were more drunk than the patrons upstairs and the booths and corners gave better opportunities for shady deals. She was sure to grab any five-figured bounty if she snatched one of three of the men there.

“Excuse you!” exclamed a waiter, who happened to be a Twi’lek much like herself, but more scantily clad.

Tayleen scanned the crowd of smelly low-lives until she saw the specific set of ears she was looking for. This time, the man couldn’t run as he pretended to play on a Pazaak machine. She pressed the muzzle of her blaster pistol into the small of his back, discretely hiding the weapon between the two of them. She leaned into the back of his neck, emulating a seductress, much to her own disgust.

“How about we rent a room and you tell me all about your childhood?”

The young human male froze, trembling as she pressed her gun with more insistance.

“What childhood?” he asked, terrified.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “He took it from you, as he did mine.”

His brown eyes wide with fear squinted shut, then opened with a different look. Greyshi took a deep breath and nodded.

It had been over a decade, but Tayleen remembered it clear as day. She kept thinking about that night, the broken glass, the screams, the terror she felt hiding in a shed. Greyshi told her tales that brought up all of her primal rage and pain. His story was much more gruesome, however. She almost regretted every pulling her pistol on him.

“Here,” she whispered, handing him a tissue. “Don’t get dehydrated.”

Greyshi blew his nose then dried his teary eyes, and she couldn’t stop thinking how anti-hygenic that was.

“My family had moved to the Promenade thinking it was safe,” he complained.

“Obviously it got worse over time. Now, are you going to help me find him, and finally make him pay?”

He crumbled the tissue in his sweaty fingers, lips shaking as he looked down.

“I-- I don’t know if I’d dare to look at him.”

“He killed everyone I loved,” she told him bitterly. “How can we live our lives when we know he’s still around, unpunished?”

Sniffling, he shook his head. “I should have never spoken to that shadow broker.”

“A part of you did, it was survival.” She paused as the waitress walked passed their table, eyeing her cautiously. “When was the last time you ever felt alive?”

*

She returned to her ship with a datapad packed with tracking intel, pictures, holo videos. Greyshi had been carrying that around him for months with no willpower to ever use it. All it took was a gentle push from her. She had barely given a glance to the images only to confirm it was her mark. Small bounties had been issued for his capture or death. Modest families who had lost lives to him, and those whose sons and daughters would never grow up sane, like Greyshi.

The credits didn’t matter. Tayleen was going after a monster and this was more than revenge, it was the right thing to do.

Someone knocked on her door. “Come in,” she said from her desk in the captain’s cabin.

“You have a visitor,” said Kaliyo’s slurred voice. “I wonder what you did this time to piss off that one.”

Tayleen snapped her mind alert and paced the steps towards the entrance of the Phantom. The visitor was there, in the middle of the lounge area, black robes and armor and everything.

“I hope you don’t mind that I let him in,” playfully said Kaliyo. “Because who shuts the airlock on a Sith?”

“A good philosophy to have for preserving your ship’s integrity,” commented Skordus.

Tayleen folded her arms and stared back at him.

“Someone can’t take no for an answer.”

The Rattataki merc used the moment to feel the room and smirked. “I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

Tayleen saw her go to the cargo hold where she had set up her quarters. Skordus looked around the ship and put his gloved hands on his belt.

“Have you found what you were looking for?” he asked.

“I found it alright. But why have you followed me?” She squinted her eyes as if to pierce through his mask. “I can handle this on my own.”

“So you’ve side-tracked.”

“Should it bother you?”

“No.”

She smirked and blinked slowly, feeling her blood racing after their banter. “You like me.”

He shifted his stance but without a face to see it wasn’t obvious if he was phased by her assumption.

“I gave you my word,” he repeated. “Regardless.”

She took a few steps forward, arms still crossed defensively.

“Fine, but when we leave here it will be for something... personal. Do you think you can take a step back while I deal with that?”

“This is your ship. I’ll do as you ask.”

If she had eyebrows she would have raised one but his words rang with honesty to her.

“We’re going to Nar Shaddaa.”

*

The Promenade was just as she remembered it. Then again, learning her trade had required many trips to Nar Shaddaa, the galactic retreat for all things illegal and questionable. Tayleen followed the last known coordinates for her target. After the second stop at the door of a rented apartment, she made her mind to start telling Skordus about her task.

“We’re looking after this man,” she told him, with the datapad for him to see. “Devo Mellenis. He’s wanted for murdering and molesting people in this quarter. I used to live around here...”

They were between two paths with a mediocre gardern and broken fountain. There were bums and spice addicts at every corner.

“How has he not been arrested after so much evidence?” asked Skordus.

She sighed. “Because he’s very good at covering his tracks. He hacked into the security cameras and personal records of everyone who could ever recognise him. Made us all look like fools on paper. Now, I finally found another survivor, a kid at the time, he got kidnapped by Mellenis...” She caught her breath a second time. “Anyway, he got what I was looking for. We can catch that scum.”

Skordus appeared to think while he inspected the data. His mask faced her again.

“You will have your revenge, Cipher.”

She acquiesced and sealed her lips, knowing all too well that it would only take a word for the tears to come out. This was all too late. She had already failed and no longer had a family as her punishment. The disappointment was such that she’d grown accostumed to it, used it to fuel her rage and hatred against all who attempted to affect her. Now, she used it to want to kill one man.

They kept searching, and the latest navigational coordinates led them to a seedy location in the undercity of the Promenade. She was thankful for the lack of surveillance, for what she was planning to do, and for the constant reminder that Nar Shaddaa was no longer the home she remembered.

The hotel was abandoned. The sign was broken and unlit, and the door jammed when it should have opened automatically. Skordus waved a hand to it and it cranked ajar before sliding completely into its groove in the wall. Blaster out, Tayleen stepped inside. Womprats fled in her path, a long corridor with numbered doors. The ceiling lights were so faulty they blinked at random. She heard voices; grunts and screams, and other animalistic sounds. She kept her senses focused on her objective.

The number one-two-eight appeared and she positioned herself to the side, giving it a knock. Opposite from her, Skordus was holding his lightsaber, ready to ignite. The adrenaline coursed through her body and she slammed the old door open. But she saw nothing.

There was a chair in front of a holo projector. The bed was just a mattress and messy sheets. There was trash and flies everywhere. The room reeked.

Mellenis was lying in the chair, mouth agape and dry. His dark sunken eyes had gone milky and lifeless. Had someone gotten to him before her? Tayleen nudged him with the muzzle of her pistol, then he slowly leaned forward before his head dropped with an alarming crack of the cervicals.

Lips pinched with disgust, angry, Tayleen kicked the chair so hard the body fell completely to the floor, knocking the holo projector down and with it, darkness filled the room.

Leaving the hotel couldn’t be fast enough as she felt she wanted to hurl and breathe fresh air. It was still dark, in the underground streets, but at least it did not stink as much.

Skordus waited as she recovered her calm demeanor. He stood at two paces and his mask did not directly face her. Tayleen took another deep breath and straightened back, brushing tears from her eyes with the back of her hands.

“You are positive it was him?” he asked.

“The genetic scan confirmed it. He could cheat records but not biology.” Sniffling, she worried how Greyshi would react when she would tell him Mellenis had died of natural causes. “We can leave now. You can go back to your crew.”

She had wasted enough of his time.

They began walking back to the upper level, and the pace was slow, and Tayleen couldn’t take the silence. Her eyes welled again.

“Say something.”

“It is your moment,” he answered quietly. “And revenge was taken from you and I couldn’t help you. We cannot fix this.”

The anger left her to become sorrow and self-loathing. There was no point in fighting the warm streams on her cheeks. She caught sight of Skordus, looking at her, and he stopped walking to touch her arm. It sent a wave of static energy through her spine.

“Justice always needs to be fought for,” he spoke. “No one fought for you and countless others, but that doesn’t mean you should give up. There is a galaxy full of injustice. That’s ours to deal with.”

“The Empire can’t help save everyone...” she mumbled, feeling a pit form in her heart.

“Yet we fight,” Skordus continued. “You will keep fighting.”

Guilt still weighed on her as she sought her moral compass. She had fought for survival for too long to be aware of others and their equal will to live. The Empire had given her the opportunity to grow beyond her own self. It had provided her with skill sets, duty, a family.

“What should I do now?” she asked him.

“Build your legacy,” he encouragingly said. “Leave your mark, protect those whose lives you affected.”

“Ah,” she skeptically reacted, “and I thought all Sith lived for themselves.”

“The reality would surprise you.”

 

 


	3. Nar Shaddaa

The viewport of the Phantom was filled with stars hung on the black of space. Below was the arc of orange light that was Nar Shaddaa, with the faint lights of ships transiting in low orbit. Essan took notice of a young woman sitting at the navicomputer. She stood at attention, only breaking salute when he acknowledged her with a nod.

“Lord Skordus,” she gasped. “Ensign Raina Temple. It is an honor to have you onboard.”

“Are you also from Central Intelligence?”

She sharply nodded. “Indeed. I am soon taking candidacy to become a Cipher.”

“You have a great referral with Cipher Nine.”

She bit her lower lip, hesitant.

“Actually, I thought I could mention your name in my activity report. Your insights would be so valuable--”

“I’m not the one you should talk to about this,” he interrupted. “Besides, I’m here on unofficial business. Your discretion is required.”

“Oh,” she stood aback. “Uh, understood. My Lord.”

She bowed her head and left the cockpit. Essan enjoyed a quiet minute and sat down for the first time in almost a day. Being on someone else’s personal transport was a strange position to him. Malavai Quinn was still at the Fleet, surely pestered and vexed. Essan kept that concern aside. He needed to help Cipher Nine.

Eventually, the Twi’lek came out of her cabin and joined him. She smelled of cleanliness.

“How are you feeling, Cipher?”

She took a seat in the pilot’s chair and pensively looked through the viewport.

“I feel ready to make some changes.”

“Mellenis was not alone to abuse his freedom. Nar Shaddaa needs order and security.”

She scrunched up her nose, frowning as if she had smelled something foul.

“It would be easier to move innocent people from there. How can you uproot the criminal corporations and drug cartels? They only understand violence, using civilians as meat shields.”

Essan let his thoughts trail back to occurrences of Imperial defense strategies that involved positioning civilian habitats within potential blast zones. Cipher certainly knew about them as well, having studied military tactics.

“War is just about to start,” he thoughtfully said. “We’ll have to find the way we want to rebuild this Empire.”

Staring back at him, her blue eyes had gone a shade darker, she remained silent though sadness had vanished from her face.

“I’m just not sure whatever we do will matter on the long run. You say there is hope if we fight, but those who come after us aren’t like us. They’re not like you.”

“Then we’ll have to find those who are.”

He was grateful for the mask because he hadn’t the slightest clue of where to start. Cipher gave him a long skeptical look, leaning her elbow on her command console.

“Darth Jadus is my superior,” she said. “What about him?”

Essan had heard of Jadus and the way he had faked his death and had his own daughter killed for his ascention to power. There was no compromise among Sith. Hadn’t Darth Baras attempted to kill him, Essan would have spared the old man and simply exposed his treachery. The Dark Council and the likes of Jadus could slaughter each other.

“I suggest not to share your private thoughts with him.”

“But with you, I should?” she provocatively asked.

“I would listen,” he answered, pausing as he smiled. “And I would share my own.”

“That’s a trick,” she retorted with a tired glare. “You’re trying to use me. Believe me, I’ve seen it all.”

He frowned behind his mask and took in a breath. “It must have been hard growing up in the ranks as a Twi’lek female.”

“You don’t say,” she said, sarcastic. “And Sith Humans have all the perks.”

“They do. Why do you think I wear this mask?”

She chewed the inside of her cheek and squinted as if to see through it.

“Bad, ugly scars?”

“To fool Humans, they fear what I might be. They place a large importance on looks, much to their own detriment.”

“So you aren’t Human? What are you?”

“Rattataki.” He waited for a reaction from her but got none. “It makes no difference to you.”

She smirked and leaned against the back of her chair. “It could, if you removed that mask.”

“There’s no point in that. You can understand me clearly.”

“Are you afraid, Lord Skordus?” she asked as she crossed her arms and legs.

“Simply cautious, Cipher.”

“I can see how having no face could help in combat. Or playing mind games. Lord Jadus is good at it.”

She turned away but couldn’t hide the emotion on her dark lips and hands that began navigating the galaxy map. Essan shifted in his seat to appear considerate of her state.

“Members of the Dark Council are corrupt by their own power,” he said, reflecting on his own past. “They live in constant fear of assassination and betrayal. You can be glad you're free from that.”

The ship’s engines hummed and the viewport panned to move towards a different sector of the galaxy. Cipher Nine - he was tired of not knowing her true name - hit the confirmation switch and the Phantom’s hyperdrive roared.

“Someone tried to kill me numerous times,” she corrected during the jump, facing him again and this time she looked stern. “He was vicious and arrogant, hunted me like a prey... Needless to say he payed for it. But I don’t know who will be next to stand against me.”

She stood once they were in hyperspace and sighed.

“I’m tired. Lord Sith, sir. I programmed a course to the fleet. Thank you for helping me today.” Cipher walked towards the captain’s quarters and looked over her shoulder. “It was nice talking to you.”

 

*

 

He did as Cipher wanted and left the ship as soon as it touched down at the Fleet. Next to the hatch stood the Rattataki mercenary that traveled with Cipher. Essan stopped in front her; she looked like a henchman, always angry and over-protective of her job.

“She’s still sleeping,” she snarled. “She never sleeps that much, and I know my girl. Something ain’t right, Sith. Give me a reason not to kick your butt off this ship.”

“I-- was leaving anyway?” he attempted, parting his hands innocently.

“Funny,” she propped her own hands on her hips, squinting at him. “What did you want from her, back there? Tried to mess with her head?”

“Your accusations are below me,” he growled. “Cipher Nine needed support, and I happened to be there at the time. We discussed matters that don’t concern you.”

“What goes on with Tayleen is also my concern. She gave me a decent life, made me respectable. I owe her a big deal. Now you come in and she’s all emotional and I have never seen her this way.”

His heart seemed to stop in his chest and he took a few deep breaths despite trying to appear calm. He instinctively looked back to check the cabin’s door, and it was still closed. Her name was Tayleen?

“Tell you what, big Sith,” the mercenary continued, pointing a finger at him, “you will fix this. Men are all alike: stomping all over a woman’s life and marching the kriff away when things get complicated.”

Guilt gnawed at him, and the gray-skinned woman had him at loss for words. Her tattoos and jewelry were the mark of many exploits and strong personality. He knew better than to cross her.

“What should I do?” he humbly asked.

She smiled and folded her arms, standing tall and proud. “Tough Sith is ignorant of how to deal with a woman. So predictable.”

“Well, in that case I will do the only thing I know that will ease her mind.”

He stepped down the loading ramp and pressed the hatch lock switch.

“It’s not my job to recruit people,” said the merc, “but we could use you on our team. Big, intimidating Sith with super powers? No one would dare to stalk her again.”

Walking down the ramp was more painful than he’d anticipated. Once he heard the hatch hissing closed behind him, Essan turned around, looking up and hoping it would slide open and that she would be in the frame, coming after him. Not even the Force could make that happen.

Back in the Fury he washed and inspected his face, the very thing that he hid from the woman occupying his mind, absorbed all other thoughts and kept him from talking to his crew yet. The mask had preserved him from wounds and scars all of his life as a Sith. Maybe she would have been surprised to see it.

The mask also prevented all personal attachments beyond a professional trust. His friends didn’t get to see that he barely had any tattoos or jewelry. His eyes were almost black instead of the common silver among other Rattataki. Splashing water on his face, he squinted his eyelids shut and breathed in deep, centering his focus.

Everyone would end up alone. His life of solitude was simply an honest take on that philosophy. If the Rattataki merc was right about Cipher Nine, he now had the moral responsibility to check on the Twi’lek’s well-being. She was an adult however, probably as old as he, and strong enough to handle her life. She had no reason to be afraid since her crew looked after her.

“My Lord,” Quinn casually saluted as he stepped in the cockpit. “How was your excursion with the Twi’lek female?”

He looked back at the man through his visor and tried not to bark when he spoke.

“There were unresolved issues.” He took place in his seat and opened up the galaxy map. It took him a moment to realise he didn’t know where to go. “I have research to do. It might take a while but I need to do this alone.”

The words had flown out of his throat almost on their own accord and Quinn nodded slowly.

“If you ever need assistance, I will be on leave but reachable.”

Essan nodded back to him. “Let the others know.”

The Imperial Intelligence officer had once attempted to betray him. Essan had made him understand the limit of his patience and never once allowed him to feel comfortable again. It kept Quinn on his toes.

For the first time in months, he felt free to use his time as he pleased and not to fulfill the whims of a Sith or Imperial. Essan opened up his journal in this quarters and entered the name of Cipher Nine’s target. Devo Mellenis, deceased. He downloaded the criminal case files from the Imperial databases for later use. He launched a quick search for remote relatives of a Tayleen, survivor of one of his attacks. The search came up empty.

Imperial Intelligence must have erased all of it.

Essan switched to his datapad and synchronised it with his mask’s recording interface. The playback reviewed his last encounter with Cipher Nine, inside the cockpit of the Phantom with her sitting at the commands, her face bland with tiredness. He captured the frame and sent the image to his computer for a wide search on the holonet.

Several results popped up, and three were lucky picks from civilian lookalikes. The other ones showed recordings and pictures of an orange-skinned Twi’lek much like Cipher Nine, dressed in dark attire, carrying weapons. She had been visiting public places across the galaxy and that didn’t help him. He needed to know her name.

He wasn’t going to contact her directly yet. First, he didn’t have her contact information. And second, he was certain she would find his curiosity misplaced if not rude. There was another clue to find.

At the Cartel Bazaar, the bounty terminal displayed the available missions but also the completed ones. If Cipher hadn’t completed her task, it would still be displayed for others to know who was already on the job.

Essan accessed the computer and quickly scrolled down to... Who was that again? Drakal Verrl. He thanked his onboard recording viewer.

The bounty was displayed as in progress and dealt by no other than Agent Cipher Nine.

He snapped the device shut, making a Chiss mercenary perster after him for having to turn the device on again. Essan ignored the critics and insults and headed towards the Trade center. He had nothing to buy or sell but he knew that he could stand there and look inconspicuous and observe people. There were Sith dressed in garb more flamboyant than parade dancers. Powertechs fitted with machines bigger than laser turrets. No one payed attention to one man dressed in black.

Behind his mask, he closed his eyes and let his heart beat set the rythm for his lungs, taking in just enough air so as to stay awake and aware. The Force was pitted with pools of darkness all around, and he could feel them dragging him down. Refusing to acknowledge the void, Essan let his thoughts trail back to the memory of his first encounter with Cipher Nine. Her mark in the Force was bright, singular, and fleeting.

Opening his eyes, Essan headed through the crowd and stepped along the railing that kept people from falling down the station’s vents. Across the bridge, he sensed the singular presence and he calmly walked towards it.

She was sitting on a bench, reading her datapad while people were bidding on the network terminals. As soon as he was near she lifted her gaze to first look surprised, then annoyed at seeing him.

“Are you stalking me, My Lord?”

“I may have been looking for you,” he answered, genuine. “And I believe we have unfinished business.”

She stood, warily taking notice of onlookers in that populated place. When she talked to him she barely made eye contact.

“What if I told you that I want to retire? What happens then?”

“At your age? You’d be AWOL. Darth Jadus would have you arrested.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “He’s merely a shadow at this point, just like the Emperor. They set a good example...”

He himself had never even been in contact with the Emperor. The Voices and Hands spoke to him through other means and no one was sure how. Then Darth Malgus came around, accusing the Emperor of playing dead, abandoning the Empire to a rotting peace treaty.

“Where would you go?” he bluntly asked as they walked through the artificial gardens of holographic trees. The colors of green, blue, orange danced around them. Cipher Nine dug her hands in her pockets as she searched for words.

“Wherever it feels like home. My plan was to buy a place, and see where that would take me.”

“I own an apartment on Dromund Kaas,” he told her. “If you need a place to stay in the mean time...”

She finally looked right into his visor. “Do you realise how easy you’re making it to ambush you if I wanted to?”

“It’s worth risking. At least you wouldn’t be homeless.”

“But it wouldn’t be my own place. I want my life back in order, I won’t take your charity.”

Essan took a moment before speaking again.

“I don’t like knowing you are worse off today than the day we met. There must be something that I did that changed you.”

“Of all the locations, you choose this public place to start this discussion?” she murmured.

He came to notice that he was enjoying seeing the colorful projections of light upon her skin and into her kind eyes. When they moved back to her ship, the fluorescent blue lights made her look pale and distant. This time, none of the crew was in sight and she took him inside her cabin. She poured herself a glass of water while he stood near the door.

“I don’t know if I should offer you a drink.”

“Only if the lights were off,” he tried to sound pleasant.

Cipher leaned against her work desk and sized him up and down, as if memorising his outfit.

“You haven’t been Sith for very long, have you?”

“Only my entire adult life.”

“And how old are you?”

He gave himself a second to think. “As old as you. I was plucked from my family at a young age. Both my parents were pirates and their clan raided the wrong Imperial freighter. There was a Sith Inquisitor on board.”

She took in a breath through her nostrils, drumming her nails on her desk top. Essan sensed her doubts and apprehension and that made him cross his arms against his armored chest.

“So you’re a rebel,” she commented suspectingly.

“We’re all products of our environment. Refusing to conform to others should be a sign of intelligence, don’t you agree?”

“I believe we’re all different,” she answered. “But we’re defined by our actions, no matter what mask we wear.”

“That’s how I keep people interested.”

“Ah,” she chuckled lightly. “It takes more than Force tricks and fancy armor to draw me in.”

“So what’s your method to keep people away?” he asked back at her.

Cipher shrugged, rolling her blue eyes. “A rough bodyguard named Kaliyo.”

Upon hearing the name, Essan was struck with the sudden reminder that he was on sensitive grounds. No matter how comfortable he felt in the room, he could still hear the Rattataki’s threats.

“She and I spoke before I left earlier,” he confessed. “She is very protective of you. And out of respect, I understand if you’d like to keep your distance.”

Confusion settled on her face and she frowned sadly. “So, you two met,” she hesitated, and shook her lekku. “Well, I apologise for making a fuss. Sometimes I forget my place.”

“Does this happen often?” he asked, intrigued. “Do you let your merc decide who gets to spend time with you?”

The Twi’lek, much like a child, bit her lower lip and looked away as she mustered a response.

“I do use her as a buffer. But that’s not the issue here. She is Rattataki and so are you.”

Essan let his shoulders drop and took upon himself to step closer. She nervously stared at him.

“All you need to do,” he spoke as quietly as his mask allowed it, “is to tell me to go away, and I will.”

She whispered and it tore him apart to see her unable to face him.

“Don’t go.”

For the first time in years, he felt scared and frozen in place. He’d done his best to keep everyone at arm’s length in his life, for their safety first but more importantly to stay clear of being hurt. Passion was encouraged in the Sith code, but affection was a liability. It was engrained so deeply in his mind psyche that he was left defenseless in front of this woman. Tayleen, the first person for whom he cared enough to want to know her name.

“You can call me Essan,” he heard himself say, but felt no remorse as she lifted her sad eyes. “That’s my real name.”

“Essan,” she repeated softly. “I’ll remember it.”

Looking down, he found her comlink terminal. It dawned on him that he had no means to communicate with her without going through a third party. He brought up his gauntlet and extracted the chip from his own comm. The transmitter linked with her computer as he approached it.

“You can call me any time,” he explained.

“I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“I know... That’s why this line is secure and private.”

She watched him retrieve his chip and let out a sigh. Essan stood just a step away from her and his heart was racing. Why did he not dare to move?

“What will happen when someone knows you’ve been here?” she worriedly asked. “Someone who wants you dead?”

“I am entitled to meet with Imperial officers,” he tried to answer. “It’s part of work.”

She shook her head again, losing patience in her eyes. “This isn’t work, at least I hope it isn’t.”

As much as he wanted to give her reassurance, he couldn’t deny the warm feeling he got in his chest.

“Then there would be no point in hiding.”

“Are you suggesting I join your team again? Because that didn’t go so well the last time.”

“That’s not the best plan.” He pause for a breath. “We need time to think.”

She nodded, unable to hide the emotion from her eyes. “Yes.”

He smiled and remembered she couldn’t see it. He allowed himself to touch her arm. She shuddered, staring at his gloved hand.

“I should leave now.”

He was ready to pace his way back to the exit when all lights dimmed and if not for the electronically enhanced night vision, he would have been completely blind. She had flipped a switch on the wall near the bed and she stood facing him.

What happened next was a blur, Essan only registered that he had his mask off and could suddenly smell her subtle scent of citrus. He leaned down and met her lips as they kissed. He couldn’t see in the dark but all of his other senses were alert if not for the storm of emotions rattling his head.

“I have to go,” he whispered as she held his hands. There was nothing awaiting his attention but leaving was necessary.

She did not object as he put his mask back on. She did not stand in his way when he left the Phantom.

Reaching his hangar he stopped dead at the gate, sensing a familiar presence tainted with ill intent. It made his stomach knot and his spine went cold. The door hissed opened on the Fury, but a black hooded figure stood there, a double-bladed lightsaber ready to be ignited.

“I’ve been expecting this moment,” menacingly said Jaesa Willsaam. “Master.”

Against his better judgment, Jaesa had taken on the role of inquisitor of the dark side. She was skilled in detecting the light in Sith lords.

“Have you run out of students to murder?” he spat at her.

“I was blind for so long,” said the young woman, squinting her yellow eyes under her hood, “and now I finally see through your lies and deceit.”

“Jaesa,” he called to her with a calm, but firm voice. “You used to be on the light side yourself, had it not been for your old Jedi Master, you and I would have been on a similar path.”

She sneered at him then smiled manically. “Prepare to meet your end, Master.”

On those words she lunged at him, lightsaber ignited and striking high. Essan barely had a second to react and parried with his crimson blade. Red light shone against all surfaces and armor, and Jaesa’s face looked twisted with rage and fear as they locked in place. He pushed her away and called to the Force to throw her across the hangar.

The Human woman tumbled backwards and slid on the sleek floor, one palm down as she gathered herself to run towards him for another assault. Essan was already on his way to leave her there, and remotely programmed the Fury to commence takeoff sequence.

Jaesa tossed her weapon in the air, a dangerous maneuver for her as it was double-sided, nearly slashing her own head off. Essan threw himself to the floor in order to avoid the lightsaber, rolling over his head and using the Force to keep her from catching her weapon. In a split-second thought, he also dismantled the casing of the power crystal contained in the silver hilt.

“No!” she cried with anguish, picking up the useless pieces of her lightsaber. “I will kill you, Darth Skordus!”

As she spoke, she got on her feet and extended a stretched arm and crooked fingers. Essan felt the tightening of his throat and windpipe, but his power was superior. She struggled to break past his atunement to the Force and the invisible barrier that countered her insidious attack. Essan took that respite to climb up the boarding ramp and got into his ship the moment it was lifting off its struts. He rapidly paced up the corridor towards the cockpit, swearing to himself that Jaesa would no longer be part of his crew.

Unless she would come back to her senses, as Quinn had. Still, he would have to make her pay somehow.

Before jumping to hyperspace, he sent out a message to Cipher Nine, hinting at her that she would know where to find him and that someone was after him. She didn’t have to worry but it would be wise for her to leave the Fleet.

Hitting the send key, he felt a pang of regret in his gut. He had once cared for Jaesa before she became a disappointment. The woman didn’t know who she was and he had meddled in her quest for self-affirmation. What if he was repeating that mistake?

The viewport turned to the familiar blue whirlwind and he got up from his seat. Only a Sith would deal in absolutes and not forgive. Only a Sith would accept the ruin of a person’s life, only to find personal satisfaction in being right.

And he was Sith, and as such his range of action was limited. Essan left to find his room and all of the research he had done on Cipher Nine. It was all pointless now that he knew her in a way very few did.

He opened up his comms system and let Quinn know about Jaesa. With the message, he attached the video capture of the fight in the hangar. It was best that no one among the crew tried to contact him or know where he was.

Wherever he stood now on the Force spectrum, he was going dark.

 


	4. Dromund Kaas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M-rated content in this chapter.

Chapter 4

 

The Phantom hung in space, drifting without a destination.

Tayleen was in the medical bay, having Lokin run a check-up on a blood sample. She rolled her sleeve down and stood from the cot.

“I’m honored you would trust me as your medical advisor,” said the bio-engineer, “although I would insist you consult a medic specialised in Twi’lek biology for a more complete scan.”

“You’re my health specialist for now,” she told him, irritated. “Let’s keep my physical status limited to this present crew.”

The blood sample was done being analysed by his machine. Lokin rubbed his chin and watched the resulting numbers on his holoscreen.

“Everything seems normal, Agent. I’ll dare to say, you’ve been under a great deal of stress as of late. That could impact your vitality despite regular exercise and balanced diet.” He extracted the vial of blood from his analyser, it was of a dark purple, almost blue color. “Do with this as you will. I haven’t the heart to keep your genetic material in my lab. Who knows what sort of accident could happen.”

She suspiciously eyed his incubation vat. Lokin was known for his cloning skills and tempering with DNA. She took the glass vial half full of her blood and took a breath.

“What can you tell me about Rattataki genetics?”

He raised a gray eyebrow. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’ve had several encounters with Rattataki men, and of course we have Miss Kaliyo on board, though she would never let me approach with my sample kit.”

“I may have come in contact with one,” she added carefully. “Is there any risk of contageous diseases, bacteria?”

She was grasping at straws, looking for an excuse to keep her distances. Lokin rubbed his hairy chin.

“How close of a contact?” he asked.

Tayleen lowered her brow and folded her arms together. The signal was clear to Lokin who raised his palms in defense.

“Apologies, Agent. You have the right for privacy. After all, I’m not your doctor.”

“And you aren’t my father.”

“Clearly...” he took a moment to think. “The Rattataki species is a different branch of the near-Human family, and there have been attempts at producing hybrids between us and Rattataki. To create super Humans, you could say. Or subpar Rattataki. All experiments have failed, however. I’ve only read of these science projects from old reports. They helped discover the highly efficient immune system of the Rattataki, and their high metabolism. Much like the Twi’lek, as a matter of fact.”

His words rang in her mind as she felt dazed in the memory of that instant in the dark, smelling, feeling and tasting the man she cared about. The man who had slipped through her fingers and disappeared three days ago.

“Agent?” repeated Lokin. “Does that answer your question?”

She only wondered further about him. “Yes, for the most part.”

It didn’t matter now.

“With all due respect, Agent,” began Lokin, “I suspect your meeting with Darth Skordus has affected you. I highly recommend you to rest, and maybe keep your mind occupied with practical matters.”

“Has everyone been talking behind my back?” she asked him, expecting to intimidate the scientist.

“Only all the time for the past week,” he answered candidly. “We worry and care about you.”

“Yes,” she acknowledge humbly. “And I appreciate that. I only wish it weren’t so difficult to handle, let alone managing a whole crew while dealing with a crisis.”

“Whatever you decide,” Lokin added with a smile, “I will support you, Agent. If I gathered the pieces right, I think you should know that you are young, with a life full of adventure ahead. Do not waste it wondering what could have been.”

Pride made her shrug off the old man’s advice while her shame took her to isolation in her cabin again. It wasn’t like her to bluntly kiss a stranger. Her mind was going on a spiral and thinking practically meant going for another errand run, perhaps even a hunt. Her computer system was online and she opened her comms. How many times did she read that last message again? She hadn’t the heart to answer, or to do anything about the invitation Skordus sent her.

Essan, that was the name he wanted her to call him. Who else called him that way? She was Tayleen for her friend Kaliyo since formality and titles never worked with the mercenary. What was the use for him to know her name?

“You’re gonna turn blind staring at that screen.”

Startling in her seat, Tayleen twisted her neck to see Kaliyo leaning in the door frame. Had it been open all along or did she also turn deaf from her own thoughts? She slowly stood and invited her in.

“I feel trapped in a standstill,” she explained, tired of hiding her emotions. “I don’t want to lose what we achieved so far.”

“You think going on vacation will make us turn on you for some reason,” rephrased Kaliyo. “We have our own lives to tend to, you know that.”

“Part of me was hoping that I would find my family among this crew and not feel lost anymore.” Tayleen blinked and shook her head. “Serves me right for assuming too much.”

“Ah, family,” Kaliyo chuckled. “It’s over-rated anyway. You don’t choose your family, but you pick the people you like best for the ride.”

Resisting the pull to switch off her computer, she eyed Kaliyo with cautious hope that her friend wouldn’t judge her too harshly.

“Am I going insane or did he play a trick on me?”

“You made him come aboard,” reminded Kaliyo, “when you could have stayed on his ship. Relax, we all have hormones and feelings. My guess is you denied your needs for so long you forgot what it’s like. Cipher.”

“You’re right,” Tayleen admitted in defeat.

“One thing, though,” added the merc. “I spoke to your Sith and he sounded angry when I asked if he was using you. Not the evil kind of angry. I think he was scared to cause trouble.”

Tayleen narrowed her eyes and sat on the edge of her bed. “What does it all mean?”

“I mean he cares about you, from what I gathered. You seem confused as all hell so I thought I’d add my two creds.”

“And you’re not against it?”

Puffing with irony, Kaliyo shook her white, bald head. “Love and feelings are always a bad idea in this galaxy. Of course I’m against you hooking up with some guy, and from the looks of it that won’t just be a hook up. This could lead to some serious, dark warmongering, shady business.”

Her words only made her heart sink in a bottomless pit. Kaliyo, seeing Tayleen bury her face in her hands, softened her voice.

“But I’ll be around if you need help dealing out your shady business. I’ll fix your makeup, go shopping for a nice dress and you’ll make me your maid of honor or something.”

“I’m not getting married,” Tayleen bitterly protested.

“Then why so nervous?”

“I just...” she sighed, hiding her trembling hands in her lap. “I’ve never been with anyone before.”

Kaliyo smirked and propped a hand on one hip. “Oh, you’re scared about that! You don’t even know if it’s a male or a female. Or what species...”

“Rattataki,” she snapped, turning her eyes away.

“Ah... Ah,” Kaliyo hesitated, this time she apparead confused as well. “Sorry to break it to you, kid. But if that’s a Rattataki, it’s going to hurt. And you better use protection ‘cause I know for a fact there have been Twi’lek hybrids on our world.”

“Are you sure?”

Tayleen watched with her mouth agape as Kaliyo nodded with the first stern expression on her face that day.

“It’s not a hundred percent compatible match,” she explained, “sometimes the pregnancies don’t go through, but it can work. And the hybrids, well... It’s a lottery for who wins the best genetic package. Most of them become rejects, you know. Society just loves different.”

It was more than she could handle in just a minute. Tayleen squeezed her eyes shut and shook her lekku.

“I can’t take all of these risks. You’re right, following our feelings is stupid. I’ll just erase him from my memory.”

Kaliyo cleared her throat with a disagreement. “A memory wipe - again? You barely found out who you were. You need to literally get a life.”

“But it’s not worth it.” Tayleen stood and shut down her comm station.

“Fine, then. Keep being depressed but don’t drag us all down with you.” She walked towards the door. “You got pull with a top Sith, if I were you I’d use that opportunity to do something good. After all, it’s what you taught me all this time.”

The mercenary had changed over the years. Tayleen had a large part in that evolution though she insisted that her crew would remain free of their decisions while working. Her own were driven by justice. It was time to keep up with her motive.

*

She drove her speeder bike across the skyscrapers of Dromund Kaas, battered by the ever falling rain. Drenched and nervous, she stopped at her destination: the platform of one apartment located in the outskirts of the city. There was a hangar where other speeders were parked. Entering the energy portal, she felt a gust of warm wind instantly drying her clothes. No one was there to welcome her until she heard metallic footsteps coming her way.

“Hello, Ma’am. I am 2V-R3 ready to introduce you to Lord Skordus’s quarters. My master is busy at this time and has commanded me to give you a tour of his illustrous home.”

One of the ceiling lights was broken and hung from wires, blinking alarmingly.

“Just lead me to him,” she told the overly formal droid.

“Ah, right this way, Ma’am.”

She climbed a few steps and walked after her guide through a hallway. At the end of that hallway she was in a dimly lit room with a bay view of Kaas City. It was less damp there, and she heard the crackling of fire.

“Master,” called 2V, “your guest is here. I’m terribly sorry for disrupting your moment of preparation but you instructed me to do as she desired, and I couldn’t refuse to bring her here.”

Following the droid, Tayleen found Skordus sitting at a large desk, under the light of a tall standing lamp. He stood as soon as she saw him and dismissed the droid.

“I’m glad you accepted my invitation.”

“I admit I was curious to see how a Sith lives.” Looking around, she was pleasantly surprised to see a dining table, a drinking bar and a fireplace. “But I came here to talk business.”

“Of course,” he acquiesced, clapsing his hands over his belt. “I believe we were about to bring justice upon criminals.”

She fought to read his intentions through his mask but resorted to taking his word for face value. Blinking thoughtfully, Tayleen began speaking.

“I would like to take your offer about spending time here, if it still stands.”

“That can be arranged,” he nodded again.

“Being close to Intelligence headquarters does rattle me, slightly. I’m hoping to find my own place within the week.”

“This is the heart of the Empire,” reminded Skordus. “I am expected to live here, and so are you. Your presence would not disrupt anything.”

“And not your reputation, either?” she inquired.

He shrugged his armored shoulders. “I’ve kept all of my companions at bay for years. From the word on the street, I may as well be a sexless droid.”

Tayleen couldn’t contain her surprised amusement and chuckled.

“I’m the same way.”

He paused and looked at her, tilting his hooded, masked head. It was hard to believe that they had kissed.

“Then you should by all means feel welcome here. I had 2V set up your room upstairs. There isn’t much in terms of furniture, though.”

As long as she had access to a personal bathroom with running hot water, she thought.

“Do you spend a lot of time here?” she asked, motioning the room in which they were currently standing.

“Yes, but I can move my office space to a different part of the house.”

“I’d like to see my room if that’s alright.”

It was a huge apartment, with way too much space for one occupant alone. They climbed the stairs spiraling towards the last level with access to a terrasse.

“You have so many plants and trees,” she noted, touching a large leaf from one of the potted plants near the bay window. “But no storage or decoration?”

Skordus stopped in his stride towards a central door to look at her. “I have nothing to store or decorate. This way.”

Her room was a large one on the right side of two others. The high window overlooked the forest with pathways and a few lower buildings. A single bed was next to a small cabinet and glass end table. There also was a work desk with a seat of Czerka make.

“The refreshers are behind the door on the right,” he said, pointing at it. “You can hail 2V for food and drink at any time. My room is right next door if you ever need anything.”

He turned away as she raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you,” she politely replied.

When he left her there she realized she hadn’t packed a change of clothes. The idea of spending the night felt foreign and ill-mannered. And he seemed so distant and strange to her. Not even his outfit could conceal that he was completely lost in her presence.

Being in an almost empty house without a mission or target made her uneasy. She strolled along the windows in the wide room bathed in warm light, smelling the humid soil of the potted vegetation. She heard the hiss of a door opening behind her.

“Robbers would be disappointed if they broke in,” she joked.

Skordus came near, hands clapsed in his back. “These trees are worth a lot of credits. The Dromund Kaas climate is not exactly suitable for gardening.”

“So, you like flora?”

“They’re simple, easy to deal with.” He turned his mask towards her. “Would you like to eat dinner?”

It was the evening and she had woken up merely hours ago. She nodded and followed the Sith downstairs to his living quarters. She wasn’t excited; this time she might see his face and it could change her attitude. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Will you be joining me?” she asked, sitting at the table as 2V brought her a dish and cuttlery.

Skordus sat across from her and waited as she laid eyes upon her meal of steamed vegetables, protein patty of diverse origins and a sauce she thought was sweet and sour.

“I’m still divided about the feelings I have,” he slowly spoke. “The more I think about our interactions, the less I find meaning in a relationship. We shared a moment, but it didn’t have to be more than it was.”

His words were all that she had hoped to hear but they stole the appetite right from her stomach.

“I don’t care that we kissed,” she bluntly replied. “I’m here because I found you kind and intelligent. I’m happy to have known you when I had the chance.”

“Oh,” he said, perplexed. “I may have misled myself thinking you’d lost interest.”

“Coming here wasn’t easy.” Tayleen took a breath and riveted her eyes upon him. “But I thought I’d investigate and learn before jumping to conclusions.”

“For what purpose should you investigate me?” he asked, almost amused in his tone.

“You know a large part of my life,” she retorted bitterly. “If you will become part of it, I should know yours.”

He sat back against his seat. “Very well. Ask away, Cipher.”

“Have I not told you my name yet?” She remarked, smirking. “It’s Tayleen. Tayleen Pansahu.”

It was strange hearing herself revealing that name so casually. The Sith in front of her nodded without a word. Tayleen drummed her fingers on the table, waiting and mentally debating with herself.

“How do you feel about starting a family?”

The mask tilting down before nodding again.

“I’ve thought about it, recently. I’m not averse to the idea.”

“Just to be clear I’m not laying down any plans,” defensively said Tayleen. “Though I did learn that it was possible for my species to bear Rattataki children.”

Except that she never before thought of herself as a child bearer. Upon seeing Skordus fold his arms on the table, she breathed calmly and smiled with curiosity.

“You would make that sacrifice?” he asked. “Putting your life aside to become a mother?”

She scoffed, almost exaggeratingly so. “I wouldn’t be alone.”

“There is adoption.”

“Wouldn’t you want the offspring to possess your powers?”

“I would want them to be healthy,” he replied. “And safe.”

Tayleen felt her cheeks warming up. “My life is in shambles,” she began to explain. “I’ve been going insane from working with Intelligence and here we are. I’m ready to start something bigger.”

“You would put yourself at risk,” Skordus told her. “Are you sure you’re ready for such a committment?”

“I don’t think anyone is entirely ready,” she spoke with a tight chest.

He slowly stood and paced around to look through his windows, still drummed by the rain fall. Tayleen left the table as well. Below, the city looked asleep and calm in the night, devoid of warmongering and treachery. Being up there with her Sith - her friend - she felt safe.

“When becoming Sith, I never once thought I could still have a normal life. And here you are.”

He turned to face her, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of metal and rugged fabric off his armor.

“Who said anything about normal?” she rhetorically asked.

“Ah,” he chuckled, and turned his mask away again.

Tayleen touched his gloved hand and they both looked down, fingers enterlacing.

“You still haven’t seen my face.”

“It’s true,” she smiled to hide anxiety. “And I don’t need to.”

Standing became awkward when her legs begged to run or sit, and heat overcame her body. Tayleen knew herself well enough that she could either repress her urges or share them openly, shamelessly, and trust that the person next to her would not judge her behavior. The thought was terrifying.

They sat in front of the fireplace, and she took seat upon his midsection, slowly and hesitantly unfastening her trousers beforehand. Skordus leaned back against the couch, letting go of his own inhibitions as he released the cod piece of his armor. His clothing was more practical than it appeared, and Tayleen gasped at her own arousal, then upon discovering his body.

“This isn’t how I imagined,” Skordus reflected, running a gloved hand up her bare thigh.

“If it doesn’t work between us,” she said between breaths, “I could say I never knew you.”

“Convenient.” He shuddered under her, and she felt each of his shivers and pulses. “You could still betray me.”

Tayleen almost laughed sardonically and wanted to gag him, but obviously that mask would get in the way. She slid up and pressed down again, sighing.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Sith.”

“And neither do I.”

They took their time finding the right ways to make things work for both of them. Her mind was spinning from her beating heart, straddling over someone she barely knew still mostly covered in a Sith combat suit, himself panting and grunting with restraint.

There was no clock to check and she swore that time stood still before he produced a sound that felt like a growl next to her face. She felt heaved up and was placed down on her backside to see him getting decent again.

“Not here,” he calmly objected.

Tayleen pulled up her pants with a pang of regret and shame. Her heart jumped when she was taken and her feet left the ground, carried as a bride and the world spun. She took balance hanging from the neck of her host, traveling up the flight of stairs as they both laughed. It didn’t seem like she weighed anything to him.

Then, she got better acquained with the room that was not meant for her, and it looked smaller than the guest room. But once her back touched the bedding she took off her clothes, throwing them wheverer they may land in the less than dim lighting. Pieces of armor fell to the floor as she did so, and soon she gazed at the pale form of a tall man looming over her, hairless, sculpted like the statue of some alien god. She felt a warm, stale breath and tasted dry lips as she fell backwards under his lust.

She knew that kiss, she welcomed it with joy, pulling that bald head down so that she could respond to it. Powerful hands stroked her flesh and curves until they found her errogenous zones. Tayleen gave in to him, pressing her pelvis upward. The first attempt coaxed her into a forceful penetration that did not last. They were simply not made for one another. It took three more unsuccessful tries and a long hour of sensual stimulation before she was adapted to his size and girth, barely sheathing half of his length.

They both exerted themselves for most of the night. And they lied together to recover, pushing the blanket off to the floor from the heat and sweat. Tayleen stared at the dark ceiling, panting for air, until she felt fingers brushing her cheekbone. She looked to her left side.

His eyes were dark and narrow, his forehead large and brow low over a short nose that was somewhat crooked. His lips were thin and stretched to a smile that brought a shine to his eyes. Tayleen reached out to touch his cheek, his strong jaw, his chin. She wondered how could she see him so clearly when all lights were off. She even wondered if she was dreaming. He still did not seem real.

It was the first time she kissed him knowing what he looked like, feeling a fire burning in her heart if she wasn’t having a side-effect from mating with someone outside her species. She refused to fall in love with him, she couldn’t afford to.

Someone who was Force sensitive, a Sith. The man gave her pleasure and she enjoyed giving it back. All she could hear were their breathing, voices and wet parts touching. His stamina was impressive, undoubtedly improved by his Force abilities.

They finished in the shower, deciding that they needed to be clean before sleep, but more nudity meant more love-making. This time, Tayleen relished upon the appearance of her partner, exploring each nook and cranny as they washed. He did so in return, taking special care with her intimacy during that trying time. Pinned against the black tiles, she was held by her thighs and bottom, clutching at his back while he was pressing himself to her, hilted and swelling her lower abdomen.

She cried out in need for his release, climaxing around him and with no room to fully enjoy her own completion. He let her slide out of his arms, gently positioning himself behind her to resume pushing in and out of her. Out of strength or will to stay standing, she got to her knees and rested her head on her folded arms, feeling the lukewarm floor, water dripping down her face. Her behind was up and Essan braced himself on it. She knew she was more dilated than she had ever been in her life, and that healing would be an issue for the next days.

She didn’t know how she would feel about him in the morning. They had to make the best of that night.

She awoke to the sound of light snoring, twisting her neck to see his face turned upward, mouth open slightly while he seemed to breathe with difficulty through his nose. His cough told her that sleeping on his back was not ideal for him. Pulling his arm around her shoulder, she nudged herself backward until he would be spooning her body and they both felt comfortable enough to sleep until morning.

To her own surprise, she was first to rise the next day. Sunlight couldn’t pierce through the thick stormclouds but she saw Essan peacefully lying beside her, the blanket covering him up to his neck. Slowly, she slid out of bed to stagger towards the refreshers, still numb all over. Her first realizations woke her up completely when she was sitting on the commode, taking note of the foreign matter that expelled as she emptied her bladder. She dared not look in the bowl before flushing.

“That’s what you wanted,” she mumbled to herself, inspecting her tired face in the mirror.

Her body looked spent while otherwise taught and dynamic. She felt the urge to cover her breasts that fell heavily on her ribcage. There was redness around her labia but she didn’t hurt as much as expected. She splashed water on her face and inspected the counter and cabinets, hoping to find mouth wash but she ended up investigating the morning routine of Darth Skordus. There was mosturizer lotion, dental care brushes, eye drops, nasal sprays... She almost yawned.

She waited a moment before leaving the bathroom, not knowing what she would see when looking upon the bed. There was a light knock on the door and she startled. In a split-second thought, she used a towel to cover herself and opened the door.

He was standing in front of her wearing a short-sleeved black top and underpants and she had to tear her gaze from his groin.

“Were you about to shower?” he asked with a voice that sounded weaker than she remembered.

“No,” she answered, embarrassed as she stepped out to leave him the room. “I’m done.”

He rubbed a knuckle on his left eyelid. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, and yourself?”

Blinking rapidly, he looked at her with a smile that seemed strange on his face.

“Never better.”

Tayleen recalled the sensations of him, down there, as they were together in state of near-transe. She contracted before more fluid would slide out as she moved around the bedroom, gathering her clothes. Perhaps she would soon become pregnant, she mindlessly wondered. She would have to plan her new wardrobe accordingly.

*

Later that day she stood outside on the landing ramp. Her uniform had a small hood that protected her from the rain but only so much. Minutes passed and her face was wet and cold.

The sound of an approaching speeder took her attention to the east and she smiled as she saw the rider arrive. Kaliyo zoomed passed her and landed, looking up at the apartment.

“Not bad,” she commented with her usual sly tone. “And you came here thinking you wouldn’t stay the night?”

Her Rattataki friend passed her a duffle bag. Tayleen sighed with relief.

“I didn’t want to impose. Thanks, Kaliyo.”

“Sure, I didn’t have any plans anyway.” She propped a hand over her hip with protest. “You’re not letting me in, are you?”

“To be fair, I didn’t warn him that you would come by.”

“Please,” Kaliyo said, raising her hands up. “It’s not like I’d stick my nose into your bed sheets.”

Tayleen practically followed her inside, letting the door shut behind her as she held the bag against her stomach in embarrassment. They arrived in the lounge with all the plants and trees where they sat on the couch.

“Well, well,” Kaliyo commented, looking around. “No furniture, no distractions... I know what you’ve been up to.”

“Can we not talk about this here? I would appreciate your discretion.”

Kaliyo flashed her white fangs at her. “Consider me your emotional and physical guardian, Tayleen. Your new boyfriend and I have a deal. He breaks your heart, I eat his.”

“What?”

“Ah, he wouldn’t tell you, obviously.”

She removed her soaked jacket and opened the duffle bag to get something dry to change into.

“You don’t need to be wary of him,” she told Kaliyo as she rapidly changed her bra and picked a clean white shirt. “I’m doing fine, and he has been good to me.”

“He’s big though, isn’t he?”

Freezing in place, Tayleen squinted an eye at her and her friend burst out laughing.

“Please, Kaliyo,” Tayleen shushed her. “Don’t make this more awkward than it has to be.”

She recovered from her outbreak with a heavy sigh and wiped a tear from her eye. It was the first time Tayleen saw emotion coming from her mercenary friend.

“Are you... alright?” she risked asking.

Kaliyo stared at the floor, then nodded with a sad smile.

“This is goodbye, I guess.”

“No, it isn’t.” She felt her lips tremble as her heart raced. “Don’t disappear on me. You’re my friend. My sister, even.”

“Sometimes, sisters need space to get plenty of dick,” Kaliyo said with humor.

Tayleen scoffed and slapped her arm. She rubbed it comfortingly when the piercing white eyes shot back at her.

“You can stay for as long as you like. I’ll smooth things out with Essan. But I’m sure he would understand.”

“Essan, eh? First name basis. You seem to like him.”

Again, that sadness on her pale, tattooed face. Guilt ate at her seeing her friend look so miserable.

“He’s not you,” Tayleen attempted to explain. “You can be my bodyguard.”

“Alright,” Kaliyo accepted, enthusiastic. “But I’m not begging, or anything.”

“Absolutely, I’m inviting you. I may need you more than I could admit.”

She stopped herself from touching her belly, even if it was still flat and she didn’t know what was to become of her in the next weeks. Kaliyo looked at her from head to toe and reached a hand to her chin, caressing her jawline.

“I need you too, kid.”

Confused and troubled, Tayleen opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but Kaliyo seemed to think it was an invitation to come closer. She opened her arms and they both hugged until their heartrates matched.

Tayleen heard steps in the stairwell and the door slid open in a loud thud. To her surprise, Essan came in carrying a food tray, followed by 2V.

“We brought lunch.”

They placed the food, many different portions, on the table in front of her and Kaliyo who couldn’t keep her eyes off Essan. He wasn’t wearing his armor. He wore simple civilian clothes, a loose shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Well, hello there,” Kaliyo greeted him, crossing a leg over the other.

“We’ve already met,” replied Essan, taking a seat opposite from them. “Will you be staying here?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Any objections?”

“She will be helping me with errands and getting work done from here,” Tayleen explained calmly. “I forgot to tell you she would bring me supplies.”

He silently checked with her before answering. “Any friend of Tayleen is also mine.”

Kaliyo smirked and shrugged her shoulders, inspecting the food.

“What kind of Rattataki behaves so well and serves meatless lunch to his guests?”

Essan took a bowl of noodles and began picking out his meal from the different plates. Tayleen was hungry and did the same, choosing the spicy marinated salad with rice and legumes.

“I haven’t been Rattataki in a long time,” Essan told Kaliyo. “My lifestyle is lead by reason instead of tradition.”

The food was delicious. Tayleen was too busy munching to take part in the discussion, only dreading the weight she would put on after several days spent in Essan’s company.

“Reason makes us do crazy things, sometimes.” Kaliyo submitted herself to try and eat something. She took the chopsticks and ate right out of the serving plates. “Did you cook this?”

“The droid did most of the work.”

“That seasoning, though.”

Tayleen froze to see both pale-skinned people lock eyes and Essan smiled shyly. She felt her stomach go warm again.

“One learns enough from a pirate mother who cooked grub for a cargo ship.”

“Alright, I get it,” said Kaliyo, greedily using a spoon to refill her serving of sweet sauce. “No need to impress me, and you already got into my friend’s pants.”

“Kaliyo...” Tayleen began.

“I think we’re all adults here?” she replied, holding a dramatic palm up. “My buddy was scared to even talk to you but I got through to her, big guy. You should be thanking me. Or, I don’t know, name one of your kids after me.”

Tayleen coughed. Essan only grinned at her friend.

“You could pick a name and we’ll consider it.”

Silence filled the room and Tayleen was first to clear her throat with discomfort.

“I had no idea you would be so open-minded.”

“He’s pragmatic,” proudly observed Kaliyo. “And he should feel lucky he found us.”

“Us?” repeated Essan.

“Oh, yeah,” Kaliyo brushed her sleeve on her mouth. “We’re a package deal. I’m Tayleen’s bodyguard.”

“She truly is,” confirmed Tayleen, almost dipping her nose in her bowl of rice.

It took a full meal to soothe the tension and Kaliyo went back to the ship for her own belongings. Tayleen suggested that she use the guest room while she would continue sharing the one with Essan. He cleared a space for her in his closet and she sorted her clothing.

She saw him uncomfortably silent while he rearranged his gear in the shelves of a closet.

“It’s only temporary,” she told him, checking over her shoulder for a reaction. “I don’t plan on making my nest here, and Kaliyo isn’t one to linger.”

“I wasn’t going to disapprove of your decision,” Essan replied.

“You look displeased.”

“Cautious is the better word.” He closed the doors on his cloaks and undersuits before sitting on the bed, watching her with a stern face. “This place feels crowded very suddenly.”

She looked back at him with fondness but he averted her gaze, looking at his boots. When sitting next to him she reached for his hand and sought his attention.

“It’s a big step, I know it. We all have to deal with change.” She released his hand and saw his jaw muscles tightening with restraint. His eyes were still locked and not registering her. “Don’t shut me out. Please, I need to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eventually looking straight at her. His face looked sad. “I realize you may not be safe here, and that we’re making a big mistake. This... is wrong.”

“What is?” she insisted, confused that he would hide so much doubt from her.

“This. Setting aside our duties for a relationship.”

“It doesn’t have to be a relationship,” she snapped back, rising from the bed to stare down at him. She felt tears swelling her eyelids but she pushed them back. She stuttered. “I-- I do not feel love for you. You are Darth Skordus, and I respect what you do. But...” She toned down her voice, suddenly hearing herself very loudly. “We’re not made for each other.”

“I’m aware of it,” he spoke back, leveling his voice as well. “And I think you are right. Being together, romantically, would cost us everything we’ve set to accomplish.” He looked down again. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”

Turning away to dry her face, Tayleen felt heartbroken. She wanted to escape through the narrowest door, fade out into the darkness and never be seen again. But it was daylight, and leaving meant having to explain to Kaliyo she was changing her plans again.

She had run from her fate all of her life, because if there was a fate, it had only caused her misery. Why would any Force in the galaxy have her family killed? And now, would it want her to become attached to a Sith, only to be reduced to a housewife? There was nothing that she could fall back to, if this failed. Essan was right. She needed to be far away from him.

And for that, her heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again. She already missed his touch, the sound of his voice.

Kaliyo was there for her, every step of the way. Not once did she object or tease her with judgment. Did she think she was being impulsive? Probably, but she didn’t say it. Tayleen left the Kaasian apartment with the nagging feeling that she’d forgotten something.

 


	5. Imperial Fleet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essan and Tayleen regroup under Darth Marr's orders. What they learn next will be decisive for the years to come.

 

The robotic footsteps echoed through the halls before Essan heard doors opening and shutting in his back. He almost hoped for an enemy droid invasion, something to take his mind off his troubles. Rain showered his window and he hadn’t left his room in hours.

“Master?”

2V-R3 hesitantly walked in, a sound caution in light of the previous events. He bowed his mechanical neck before speaking again.

“I’m terribly sorry, Master. But I’ve finished cleaning the entire apartment, and the kitchen is fully stocked. Will Mistress Pansahu be returning today?”

“No, 2V.” He squeezed his swollen eyelids shut. “You can power down for the night.”

“Oh... Ah, very well, Master. Thank you. I wish you a good night.”

There was nothing for him to do, no one to talk to. His crew had gone, and now Tayleen was gone. There was no way he could take back the things he’d said because she had felt the same: they weren’t ready.

Essan paced around his home wearing the civilian outfit he had worn all morning. It was strange, being so uncomfortable in his own skin. Every reflective surface reminded him of what she had seen.

And now she was out there with that knowledge, a piece of him with her.

And what about the child they had been trying to conceive?

He could not hold back the sorrow and the rage that overflowed just as he’d come into his office. The standing lamp fell down and crashed to pieces. The fireplace was blown out, the dining table toppled over. Essan was crouching in a corner, having touched none of the furniture. He shuddered with dread; what if he had been arguing with Tayleen at that moment?

His anger was directed at himself but even that wasn’t enough to end his own life. He had met many mentally unstable Sith, and none had been crazed to the point of self destruction - he had been their helping hand.

More time passed and his normal state of mind took him back to business. Back to the Fleet.

There he was assigned a new position in a special operation on Makeb. Under the authority of Darth Marr, Essan gained authority over the local strike team and completed each task and all missions with relative success. Stockpiles of isotope-5 were salvaged, the destruction of Makeb was prevented. Civilian lives were spared.

Time went by. After three weeks, he returned to Marr’s _Terminus_ -class destroyer, for a follow-up on his mission.

Troopers of black and red armor stood at attention, officers saluted as he strode passed them, barely acknowledging their presence. He was headed towards the deck where Darth Marr stayed. The red-clad Sith rarely retreated to his chambers, Essan only ever saw him elaborating strategies and giving out orders.

“The last shipments of isotope-5 have left Makeb,” he told the Dark Councilor, walking up the steps to the command deck.

Standing beside Marr, he crossed his arms against his breastplate, looking at the fleet of warships and freighters hanging in the black of space. Seeing the stars so brightly made him temporarily forget what he was running from. No more rain clouds, no more tears. Essan took a breath, straighting his back and shoulders to tether himself to the present.

“This day marks a turn for the Empire,” said Darth Marr, who turned his hooded mask to look at him. “You’ve proven yourself on your own more valuable than any machine we’ve reverse-engineered. Imagine what you could accomplish with a proper team.”

“The personnel on Makeb knew their planet and resources. Bringing in new people would have made little difference.”

“But it would have saved time,” Marr corrected, speaking sternly and sounding impatient. “We have agents hand-picked and trained to do your bidding. What I offer you, Lord Skordus, is an opportunity to form your own squadron of Wrath.”

“I work better alone,” said Essan, riveting his stare into Marr’s visor. They both had the same height, it wasn’t easy to impress the older man.

“Yes, I remember giving you free reign the day you defeated your master and became the Wrath. You also had a complete crew under your command. What became of them?”

“They’re on leave.”

Silence followed and Marr propped his hands on his hips. “It is not my place to judge your managing skills, but we must come to an agreement. The next task requires more persuasion than punishment.”

He lead him towards the hallway and they walked away from eavesdroppers. Skordus felt his stomach knot from the wavelengths of Force power emanating from Marr.

“The Dark Council has come to discover a great disturbance in the Force,” Marr said, pressing the elevator key up to his quarters. “One that hasn’t been known in hundreds of years.”

“The Emperor?” Essan asked, hoping for a negative answer.

“It is hostile in its nature,” replied Marr, stepping out into a dark corridor. “The proportions of this menace are significant. While you were on Makeb, I took the liberty to recruit a new operative to assist you in your next investigation.”

They stopped at the armored door of a conference room and it slid open with a wave of Marr’s hand. The pitch-black glossy table and seats came into view. Essan gaped to suck in the air but found none.

The woman stood in a fluid motion at the sight of the Sith, looking fit in a dark uniform with the sigil of Imperial Intelligence on her breast. She seemed oblivious of the two orange lekku that twisted their tips in her back as her blue eyes squinted fiercely.

“Lord Wrath,” she almost groaned, bowing her head in a sharp salute.

Forcing himself to sigh and regain composure, Essan returned her bow with just as much displeasure in his tone.

“Cipher Nine.”

“I see you have already been introduced.” Darth Marr entered and he followed, letting the door close shut behind them. “Lord Beniko from the Ministry of Intelligence is currently deployed and unable to attend, so you will regroup to the Fleet for more details of the operation.”

The red-clad Dark Councilor did not sit but stood opposite from Tayleen while Essan stayed at the end of the table nearest the exit, still dumbfound. He couldn’t keep his attention away from her, though she made a point to divert hers toward Marr. She was different. He sensed it, felt it even, and could not for his sake pinpoint exactly how.

“I’ve already been briefed,” she told him. “But I wasn’t told the identity of my...” She attempted to clear her throat, though it sounded perfectly healthy. “Partner.”

“Will that cause you to desist from this mission, Cipher?” Marr asked, causing for Essan to raise an intrigued brow.

Defiant, she risked a glare sideways and bowed her head, much slower and solemnly. “Absolutely not, My Lord. My only concern was for the Wrath himself. Perhaps he would prefer to leave the full investigation to Intelligence.”

“As long as Darth Jadus is in retreat, a Force user must be part of the operation,” explained Marr, calmly enunciating each word. “Which seems to be lacking in your own crew, Cipher Nine.”

Her dark lips pursed into a capricious pout for only a second before a slit replaced her mouth and she nodded again.

“We can make this work.”

Essan turned his masked face to her - almost too abruptly - and she only returned his gaze for an instant. His armour could only keep the sound of his heart beat for so long until someone would take notice. Marr probably didn’t need to hear or see anything, he only had to outstretch his senses through the Force and know that there was tension. How could he go through with this plan?

“Wrath?” Marr asked in turn.

“Yes,” he replied, again with survival speed instead of his usual gravitas. “Cipher Nine is a good choice of operative.”

“Then it’s settled,” Marr declared, hands clasped in his back as he looked at both of them rapidly. “In addition to the investigative work, Cipher Nine will be tasked to keep close watch of you, Darth Skordus. Your behavior has sprouted criticism among the Dark Council, and the Sith Academy.”

“My behavior is no one’s concern but my own,” Essan talked back, maintaining his calm so far. “And shouldn’t another Sith be appointed for this kind of scrutiny?”

Marr appeared to take in a breath, slouching slightly as he turned to face him dead on. Essan stood his ground.

“Wrath, you should be grateful that I took the personal responsibility to handle this pathetic affair. Let us not waste time and resources in a debate. Cipher Nine is capable, I trust she will report to me of any wayward activities on your part.”

“I can’t read minds,” Tayleen added, smirking.

“Neither can any Sith or Jedi,” Marr continued, nodding with approval.

Beyond his urge to lash out and call this whole charade a load of nerf defecations, Essan was left with only one alternative: compliance. It was what he’d always done ever since he was dropped at the Academy.

“I should feel lucky that I have your vote of confidence,” he said, hoping his note of sarcasm would filter out of his voice. He remembered Jaesa and her incessant hunger for hunting the light side out of the Sith. “And I apologise for placing you in this position, Lord Marr.”

“Your apologies are irrelevent,” he scolded with a low, almost imperceptible growl. “Do not fail me now, Wrath.”

Oh, if only he knew. What events had preceded his departure to Makeb and what now could transpire at any moment if there was the slight perturbance in the Force... Or did he already know? The nagging doubt kept Essan on his toes and utterly confused at once. He kept his attention to the table, cautious not to stare at Tayleen. And in his silence he felt her muted, controled anguish as well. He felt her doubts and confusion as his own. His stomach nearly churned at the thought of her and oh, how he missed her.

“You have my word,” he finally replied, snapping out of his head. “My Lord.”

“Now leave us.”

Shocked by the command, Essan had trouble closing his mouth as he stared at Darth Marr, hands slowly forming into fists at his side but he stopped and gave Tayleen a quick glance before bowing hesitantly. Her eyes were sad as she looked back at him.

The door hissed in his back and he was engulfed in darkness. The low hum of the air conditioning made his mind spin and all he could think of was what was happening in the room without him. If he stayed there attempting to eavesdrop, Marr would know. He could make things worse by caring too much. And so he left, heading for the bridge.

The staff barely acknowledged his presence as he idly walked up the steps to face the viewports. He was aware of the presence that his outfit projected. No one dared to question what he was doing there, or what purpose he served, disrupting their work in the absence of their actual commander. He had the insane thought that maybe someone could see that he was distraught. Any person with minimal observational skills could read a mute man with no face from his gait and posture. So he held his hands clasped in his back, pacing slowly in a four square meter area where no one had to walk near him or look in his direction.

Why was he not the one alone with her? Why did Marr need to consort with Tayleen, just as they were done talking to him?

He was getting paranoid, cringing his teeth behind his mask, pretending to look at the fleet hanging in the black of space. He began to form thoughts of inquisitive vengeance upon Marr, upon Tayleen. He would harrass them with hurtful questions, perhaps. Jealousy was creeping up in the back of his mind.

But how he wanted only to talk to her, to touch her hand and smell her scent again. It would make everything alright, he would forgive her, and Marr and himself.

“Lord Wrath.”

The soft, alluring yet peaceful voice came from his back and he turned to see her stand at his side, mimicking his posture but only straighter. She had done her cosmetics with care, darkening her eyelids and lips and that was all she did to embellish her looks. No tattooed eyebrows, no head ornament, no jewelry. He felt a knot form in his belly.

“Cipher,” he acknowledged as he remained stoic.

A moment passed in utter silence, the air weighed like permacrete and he heard a sigh escaping her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hoping his altered voice would not travel too far from their private council. “I should have contacted you.”

“Why?” she spoke back, not yet whispering but quietly enough not to raise heads. “There was nothing to discuss. I hold no qualms over you.”

Her serene demeanor was troubling, and again her presence felt different from what he remembered.

“How are you?” he risked asking.

She produced a noise similar to a chuckle that ended with a hiss, still looking away. “You don’t have to keep record of my well-being. I’m here, ready to work. Is that not enough an indication of my operational status?”

“Evidently,” he replied, smiling to his own surprise. “Though I would appreciate a recurrent report on your physical and mental state... It would benefit the mission.”

He caught her pinching her lips thin to hide her reaction, her darkened lids fell on her eyes and she blinked twice.

“Understood, my Lord.”

They moved out of the bridge and he allowed himself to breathe more freely, sensing her walking beside him with purpose.

“What were you talking about with Lord Marr?” he asked. “If I may be so bold.”

“He warned me about you,” she answered, pausing for Imperial personel to walk passed them without feeling curious to slow down. Her glance up at Essan was playful. “Apparently, you’ve given the Dark Council very little to work with. Some of them even doubt you are Sith at all.”

“I don’t work well with bureaucrats,” he grunted, waving his hand discretely so that the elevator would be ready to greet them once they would reach it.

“I heard,” she said, stopping at the entrance of the elevator shafts. She let out a short breath before looking straight at him. “You work alone.”

His pulse raced and he looked down. The elevator chime rang and they let a platoon of troopers step out before taking their place. All other personnel waiting to be transported to different levels stayed away to catch the next one, leaving him and Tayleen to enjoy the ride without being crowded. He didn’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted by that considerate act. The door rotated shut and silence fell on them again. Tayleen held her hands in the small of her back, her face looking somewhat grim. Her pouty lips frowned.

_I missed you._

Essan could only breathe and thank the Force he hadn’t spoken those words out loud. She would have to report it, had he actually expressed his feelings so candidly.

They climbed down the cabin onto the transport level, where they would find the hangars. More activity surrounded them, between droids, mechanics, techs, pilots and transfer officers moving around, jogging with their datapads, shouting for supplies and rotating staff. They waited for a line of starship maintenance droids to roll and hover across their path before heading to the private landing bays. No one paid attention to them, as if a fully armored Sith and a Twi’lek agent were a mundane sight around the flagship these days.

He knew they had passed his gate where his starfighter was sitting in its hangar, but Essan kept walking beside Tayleen until she slowed to a stop, suspiciously looking over her shoulder as she stood away from the door.

“Thank you for walking me to my ship,” she softly said, almost sounding tired. “Would you require I escort you back to the Fury?”

“That- no. I will see you at the Fleet.”

“Of course,” she sighed, keying the door to open. “And, Essan?”

“Yes?” his heart jumped in his throat, then plummeted down to his gut. She still used his name. He instinctively took a step closer and she squinted at him, raising her chin to keep him in her sight.

“Don’t let this Dark Council business mess with your head. I think they’re baiting you to make a mistake.”

Frowning with skepticism, he tried not to sound too conspiring. “By using you against me? Do they know?”

“Know _what_?” She eyed the hallway from side-to-side before crunching up her face and she punched his chestplate with the sole of her fist. “Shut up! We don’t need this kind of drama. I was chosen by Darth Marr because he values me. As a person. And he has a lot of respect for you, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“So we are the two favorites of one Dark Councilor. How does this help our case?”

“ _Your_ case,” she corrected, poking her finger at him with angry frustration. “You should be a little more selfish right now instead of getting distracted.”

She walked through the door towards the Phantom. Essan nearly followed but stopped near the edge. Tayleen broke into a jog and climbed the extended boarding ramp. Was she running from him, again?

* * *

 

Once alone with Darth Marr in the conference room, it seemed a weight was lifted and she could fill her lungs and sit down. Resting en elbow on the pristine black table, she rubbed her forehead and tried to hide part of her face while doing so. Marr walked around the table and grabbed one seat to get to her level, facing her. She saw his scarlet armoured boots beside her own black ones.

“It will only worsen, Agent,” he spoke as quietly as his mask allowed it. “You’ve made a choice, and it wasn’t the easiest. It won’t be the last.”

“I know,” she said, her voice was raspy and deep with anger. She let a tear roll down her cheek and weakly continued. “I just don’t think he’s ready.”

Darth Marr replied with neither trace of judgment nor hesitation, his calm and control were soothing.

“We are driven by war and duty, because we were prepared for it our entire lives. Fighting alongside each other will keep you both focused. And when he finds out-”

“ _If_ he does,” she correced.

“When he finds out,” repeated Marr, undisturbed, “ _you_ will be ready. You will decide how to proceed for the next stage of the pregnancy.”

Sobbing in silence, she smiled at the irony of a Sith lord giving her counsel about having children.

“It must be the hormones already,” she commented, wiping her face with her palms, exhaling to relax the tension in her neck.

“And if things won’t go as planned,” Marr added slower, more pessimistic, “and should you require safe haven from Lord Skordus... I would take necessary action.”

She froze and retained a sniffle, raising her swollen eyes at the crimson mask.

“What would you do?”

“There is sufficient evidence against him to justify his elimination in such a hypothesis.” He raised his chest, taking a breath. “Jaesa Willsaam has been heard by the Council, narrating her late altercation with him. She has offered her candidacy to replace him as the Wrath.”

Turning away from him, Tayleen leaned on her elbows and pressed her hands on her eyes, sobbing more deeply this time. Her lekku were contracted rigidly in her back and she couldn’t stop crying silently. She heard thumbling of a leather pouch and Marr extended his arm to place a disposable wipe in front of her. She nodded with gratitude and used it to fix her face, eventually blowing her stuffed nose in it.

“I am aware of your mutual attachment,” Marr spoke, his tone almost chastising. “But should you hold the volatile feelings and pride of one man over your safety? You carry the future of the Sith order, Agent, whatever it may become.”

She scratched a spot near her ear cone and realized she had kept a hand protectively over her belly. Whatever was growing in there, she knew it was fragile and unfitting in this cruel, dark and cold galaxy. Someone like Jaesa becoming the new Wrath was not a joyful thought. The young human woman may well be able to hunt down the child of Skordus, because of whatever fanatic Force theories there may be about hereditary weakness.

“May I use the refresher?” she asked, rising to her feet, feeling a headache ringing in her brain.

“Last bulkhead on the right,” Marr answered, nodding his mask.

She went as he directed and with a light press of her fingers, the dull gray pane of plasteel shifted and slid into a groove in the wall. She entered the cubicle-sized refreshing cabin and rolled up her uniform sleeves to splash water on her face. She looked in the mirror over the sink, inspected her eyelid paint which hadn’t entirely faded, using a paper towel to fix the irregularities. She knew it was vain and unecessary to use makeup, but it did improve her self-esteem at times.

Especially these days, when she noticed her moods were shifting far more often than she expected them. When her menstrual cycle was supposed to end and nothing had happened, she had Docor Lokin diagnose her, then she’d told Kaliyo.

And finally she had felt the need to tell someone with the means and the power to protect her. No later than a week before coming to the _Terminus_ -class destroyer, she had contacted Darth Marr herself, and confided in him. She had known him as wise, pragmatic and with the Empire’s best interest in mind. And most of all, he was kind to her, like the father she only briefly had.

She couldn’t trust Essan. Not yet.

She pressed her temples with small, circling motions and felt the cranial pressure reduce.

_You love him. You’re weak. That’s why you need Marr, you can’t even trust yourself._

She looked up at the mirror again and decided to leave the refreshers, taking care of letting the door close behind her.

Darth Marr was standing again, hands behind him as per usual, pacing slowly with his head down as if he was reciting a mantra to himself. There was a silver tray on the table, with a metallic jar and a single tea cup. Marr brought his attention to her as she carefully stepped in front of him. She didn’t know how to interact with a Sith a thousand times her superior in terms of power and influence, when he was waiting on her to clean up after sobbing, overwhelmed with emotions.

“I appreciate all you’re doing for me, Lord Marr.”

“These are crucial times for the Empire,” he told her with a contemplative tone. “And I would see Imperials raising their family under my protection rather than having our best assets defecting to the enemy.” He motioned towards the drink on the table. “I assume you would need a moment to recollect before deploying.”

Tayleen looked bewildered at the offering and nodded repeatedly, feeling more tears brimming in her eyes. “Th-...thank you,” she stuttered, laughing at her fragile temper.

There was no emotion to read nor face to deceipher in Marr’s mask before he turned on his heels to give her the room. Nevertheless, her heart felt lighter. She drank the warm tea and let the subtle yet spicy aromas drift her worries away.

She caught herself wondering if this was the kind of tea Marr drank in his own time. Maybe he knew that Twi’lek rarely had a preference in terms of food or drink. She also wondered what kind of man he was without his armor, if he enjoyed the company of friends and family himself. Her best guess was that he was similar to Essan: lonely, war-scarred and absorbed by his duty.

Coming back to the Fleet made her feel more anxious than the last time, for her first briefing with Beniko. The blonde Sith had been more than civil with her but she hadn’t taken into account that she would be paired with Darth Skordus for the operation. Maybe that would tip the balance of her rapport with the Ministry of Intelligence. Tayleen brushed the thoughts away and continued packing. Only one other suit could fit in her duffle bag if she had to pack for other supplies. Doctor Lokin provided her with a bottle of supplements: the bland, once-a-day field rations just wouldn’t cut it now.

For the rest of her belongings, she stowed her backup vibroblade, holdout blaster pistol and a handful of grenades. The usual toiletries and hygenic items were stuffed at the bottom. Everything could fit in one bag, as per military standard, and she was ready to disembark. She put on a set of casual dark fabrics with black slacks, a loose tunic with a scarf and short cape to ever so slightly hide her shape. A specifically chosen attire to fit the derelict world they were going to visit.

“I do hope you encounter no difficulties on your journey,” Lokin told her on her way to the boarding ramp. “Whatever happens, please use caution.”

She smiled at her geneticist and friend as he patted her shoulder.

“I’ll be back,” she assured him.

After an awkward pause, she reached out with both hands and took the old man in her arms. He stood rigid and lightly patted her back, visibly unable to hug without some sort of training. She stepped away and he cleared his throat uncomfortably, waving goodbye as his pale face turned pink.

Tayleen returned the gesture and picked up her bag. Before taking the ramp, she stopped in the hallway and continued to the cargo hold. Vector and Kaliyo were there, arms folded and looking not-so-happy.

“Agent,” began Vector, walking towards her. “We regret having to see you leave on your own. We still think it is ill-advised to be deployed in your condition.”

“This is bullshit is what he’s trying to say,” loudly protested Kaliyo.

Without saying a word, Tayleen went over to them and began by circling Vector in her arms. She didn’t feel him flinch and he accepted her embrace with affection, letting a hand rest on her back.

“And don’t I get a goodbye kiss?”

Brushing a budding tear from her eye, Tayleen pulled Kaliyo into the hug and they all three stood cradling each other for an awkward, humorous moment.

She was down the ramp and Kaliyo helped her carry the duffle, even if the weight of it was no trouble at all. The Rattataki sighed heavily, her gray eyes seeking hers.

“You’re off again with that guy.”

“It won’t be a one-night stand this time,” Tayleen recited, having planned for this conversation. She let a team of Imperial flight mechanics pass by and tend to the Phantom for refueling.

“Pffh, right. I know that.” She stared at her, then at her boots, and cringed irritably, throwing her arms up. “Go on, then! Get!”

She choked on words and her heart sank. Dropping the bag, ignoring the people working on the tarmac, Tayleen almost too roughly threw her arms around Kaliyo’s neck. She gave her a kiss and hoped time would freeze. But only for a moment. Kaliyo responded and made the kiss longer, savoring her as if it would be the last time they’d be together. She felt her hands in the small of her back, on her breasts, sliding down her trousers. Everywhere. She pressed her mouth harder on the Rattataki, squeezing her thighs together to trap her hand as fingers pushed in repeatedly.

It abruptly stopped and Tayleen, ablaze with lust, was pushed away without care. She looked up to see Kaliyo smiling wickedly as she licked her hand.

“Now you’re all wet and helpless,” she snickered. “Have fun!”

She was left blushing heat in her cheeks, staring at the bald woman’s backside proudly stepping up the boarding ramp. She would miss their mindless back-and-forth of mixed teases and life lessons. Between Kaliyo’s chaotic outbursts of obscenities and her rare but riveting sensitive moments. More often than she could count, Tayleen had relied on her for company, and fewer nights were spent together. That woman had ripped through of her inhibitions and she knew how to expertly please her and make all of her worries fly away.

Without knowing quite how to carry herself out of the hangar bay, Tayleen hurried through the gate knowing the ground staff would immediately start talking in her back. She felt more ashamed than she’d predicted but put her emotionality to the account of her hormones.

How was she going to handle living in close quarters with Essan now? Were they to resume their intimate relationship like nothing had happened?

And she needed to tell him - to _talk_ to him. If he was no longer on board with the plan to have children then it was best to know from the start, before the fate of the galaxy hung in the balance of their every action.

Before things got so tense that he would do the irreparable.

Tayleen slowed her pace as she felt her heartbeat drum in her ear cones, and her breathing wouldn’t settle, forcing her to heave for air when she felt nothing coming into her lungs. The air conditioning must have failed somewhere at some point. She started seeing stars and black spots.

_You can do this. Power through it. No one noticed it yet. Breathe._

She kept walking and walking, her lips were tickling and she had no idea where she was relatively to the elevator that was supposed to take her to the... Where, again?

The duffle bag met the floor again and she leaned against a gray plasteel wall to regain her senses, and hopefully to steer herself out of panic. She saw a female Sith lord pass by using boot rockets. Then a line of troopers marched through in their black and red armor and the captain slowed to a halt, putting a knee down. When had she fallen?

Her vision darkened as sounds and motions muddled in her mind.

“Ma’am? Are you alright?”

_It’s... My head. I--_

The helmeted soldier reached out a gloved hand and his touch felt like electro-static on her neck.

“Her pulse is racing.”

“Call for a medic!” shouted someone else.

_Call... Essan..._

“What’s that, Ma’am? Who is Essan?”

Of course, she had called him by his true name. No one knew his name but her.

“We’re taking you to the medbay,” continued the captain. “Stay with us. Breathe.”

*

She woke up blind, wincing and squeezing her eyes at the light over her. She turned her head to avoid the fluorescent lights and noticed she was under white sheets and wore a medical gown. Her arms were bare, and on the left she had a plastic band with numbers. The other arm had an IV line attached.

“No,” she whimpered, holding her forehead in despair and started sobbing.

Her thought immediately went to her unborn child, assuming the worst. Had she fallen? Why did her head hurt so bad? Who undressed her?

There was a medical droid in the far side of the room using a datapad.

“Where am I?” she asked, hoarse and feeling dehydrated.

“You are in the medical bay of Imperial Command Fleet, Agent. Welcome back.”

She hesitated. “Wh- has anyone seen me yet?”

“Why, yes,” answered the droid, its pleasant chorused voice sounding softly across the immaculate room. “Captain Dherin from the thirty-fourth battalion, and of course Doctor Cinara who admitted you.” The droid paused and stepped closer, approaching its visual and vital sensors. “Your vitals are stable now, but you suffered from sudden elevated blood pressure, causing loss of consciousness. You are currently on blood thinners and saline for rehydration.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Only four hours, Agent. Oh!” The droid looked at her chart on the datapad. “It seems that congratulations are in order. You are pregnant! Would you like us to contact someone for you?”

“No need,” she whispered, her throat too tight to get any louder. Tears rolled down her face and wet the pillow case under her. She was still pregnant, but now it was official.

“As you wish, Agent.” The droid softened its tone. “Doctor Cinara will be here shortly.”

As she waited in solitude, Tayleen weighed her options. She could run, steal the code access to the data terminals and remotely erase her file. Or she could stay and patiently go through the process of having an actual check-up. Either way, she needed to get up. Four hours idle was long enough.

Four hours, and no one came to see if she was alright.

The gown was made for practicality and did not close in the back. She felt exposed and humiliated, but hurried to find where were her clothes and duffle bag. Rats, she thought. Anyone could have sneeked in and gone through her things unnoticed while she was out. After opening all of the cabinets and drawers, she eventually looked behind a curtain and there was her full outfit hanging on suspenders and her bag was in the corner of the room. She retrieved them and her head was spinning again.

“May I help you?”

Tayleen caught herself fumblingin her bag for her pistol. What was she doing? The blue-skinned Chiss doctor in white lab coat entered, averting his deep red eyes from her.

“I’m-” she hesitated and turned around, pinching the back of her gown closed. “Looking for my comlink.”

“Have you checked your pockets, Agent?” he asked, motioning her clothes hanging behind her. “I’m Doctor Cinara. Let’s sit.” He pulled up a chair to take place at the bedside, waiting for her to sit on the mattress in front of him. “You were placed under my care earlier today. Do you remember what happened?”

Complying and resigned to being passive, Tayleen nodded.

“I got ill and lost consciousness.”

The Chiss nodded slowly with a hum of approval before scribbling on his datapad with a stylus.

“What else do you remember? What happened before that?” he asked again, not lifting his eyes from what he was writing.

She sighed. “I was... disoriented. I had trouble breathing.”

Cinara stopped writing and took a breath to look at her, squinting his red shiny eyes.

“What caused you to lose your way then? First time visiting?”

“No,” she objected. “I just... feel stressed at the moment.”

A little smile formed on the man’s indigo lips. “That’s understable. Are you aware of your current medical condition?”

She hesitated when she acquiesced. “That... I have some sort of stress disorder?”

“Ah, well... that may also be the case, but we wouldn’t claim that for sure before getting a full psychological diagnosis.” He brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, shifting in his seat to better face her. His smile made Tayleen want to rip his smug face off. “Agent, your blood test results give us a positive for pregnancy.”

He gave her a moment, thinking she needed to process the news.

“So... what do I do?” she blandly asked.

“Do you know who the father is?” he asked in return, curiosity making his unsettling eyes wider.

“No,” she repeated without a second’s thought. “I would rather not say.”

“Fine,” Cinara said, disappointed. “That’s alright. We can still run a few more tests with your consent, and maybe have a look at your future baby. What do you say, Agent?”

The excitement and worry all clogged up in her throat, pushing water to her eyes. “I would rather just be on my way,” she softly spoke, trying not to let her voice crack. “I was expected somewhere.”

“That’s too bad,” shrugged the medic. “You’ll have to tell them that you’re the one who’s expecting, now.”

She wanted to slap him. All of her rage and fear and sadness were bubbling and he was making jokes about her state, when she was so close to losing control. What did he think she was?

“My things,” she said with more strength this time, “who brought them in? I had weapons. _My_ weapons.”

Cinara didn’t even flinch. “You’ll have to take that up to Captain Dherin. He’s the one who carried you here, then checked your arms and ammo with the security command post.”

She growled with frustration. More delays. More complications. At this time, Beniko was probably gone and Essan was deployed on the secret operation without her.

She had failed.

She had failed Marr.

“Hey...” Cinara leaned forward and extended an arm. “It’s fine, you’ll have your guns back.”

His hand rested upon her hand on her lap. It was unwelcome, grossly intimate and revolting. Tayleen pulled it away and sat up, her face hot with rage. Why was this happening, of all times?

“Get out,” she hissed, balling her hands into fists. “ _Get out!_ ”

Frowning with disappointment, Cinara finally stood and pulled out his comlink from his front pocket.

“Fine, Agent. But whatever you do from now, know that I have marked your file as sensitive. We wouldn’t want you to wander about the station, being a danger to yourself... and others.”

“You are _not_ locking me in!” she shouted, livid, and satisfied that she found her voice again. She had never screamed to anyone this way before.

Without slowing or turning around, the medic locked the door as he left. No matter, Tayleen thought. She could now get dressed, safe from anyone’s gaze or touch, and check for her comlink. She sighed heavily with relief as she found it in one of her belt pouches.

* * *

The chirp of his private link woke him from slumber. Blinking rapidly, Essan nearly jumped from the pilot’s seat in the Fury, still docked at the Fleet. He brought his wrist communicator up and accepted the call.

“Who is this?”

There was an indescribable sound over static, and the clear whimper of a female voice. “Essan.”

“Tayleen?” he called, on the verge of shock. “Where are you? What happened?”

He was already running towards the boarding hatch, his left hand checking his hip for his lightsaber. It was there. He jogged down the boarding ramp, trying to listen carefully to the call.

“I-- I’m sorry,” she said, at the weakest of her efforts to speak. “I couldn’t make it to the briefing.”

“No, it’s alright,” he tried to reassure her. “Tell me where you are.”

“The medbay. Essan...” she coughed and sniffled. “I’m on lockdown. They won’t let me leave.”

What?

“I’m coming down there, it’s going to be okay.” He had absolutely no idea what he was going to do or say. “Just relax, I’m almost there.”

He used the integrated ID microchip in his right gauntlet to access the elevator without delay, one of the perks of being the Wrath of the Emperor. In about two minutes he was at the entrance of the medical floor. There were four wings, numerous aisles and countless rooms. He spotted the droid at the reception desk, ignoring the officers and troopers who broke into a rigid salute in his wake.

“I’m looking for a woman who arrived today,” he growled, as if that kind of intimidation would hasten the droid. “A Twi’lek. Where is she?”

Once he was given the room number and sector, Essan rushed through, knocking down medicine tablets and tools carried by clumsy orderlies. No one dared to speak up against him.

He arrived near the indicated room and there were two troopers guarding the door. They looked at each other then straightened their stance, knees shaking.

“What is the meaning of this?” Essan asked menacingly.

“Security detail requested by Doctor Cinara, my Lord.”

Waving his hand, the door unlocked with a bleep and he entered the room to find Tayleen leaning over a bed, going through a duffle bag as if looking for something important. She wore a dark red and black outfit, the same he’d seen her wear on Belsavis. She snapped out of her research to look at him, her face in total dismay. He rushed to her side and her body seemed to give up, he caught her before her knees hit the floor.

“What is going on?” he asked as softly as he could despite his panic.

He made her sit down and stood in front of her, holding her face up with his gloved hands. She was warm, even through the thick weave of his armored gloves.

“You’re running a fever,” he worried said.

“I had trouble,” she whimpered, but she tried to smile. “I couldn’t make it. They took my weapons.”

“You’re not coherent, either, Tayleen. Please, stay with me.”

Her eyelids were swollen and her blue eyes were circled with red veins. Essan couldn’t stop himself from tearing up.

“I’m so tired...” she mumbled. “We have to leave.”

“You can’t leave if you’re not well enough.”

Her eyes exhuded sadness, and an anger he had never seen in her before. They pointed towards the door. Essan turned around and saw a Chiss male with a lab coat, hugging a datapad in front of him.

“My Lord,” the medic called. “Doctor Cinara. This young lady has--”

In mere seconds, he was facing the frail Chiss and his hand was clutching his neck.

“What did you do to her?” he growled.

“Nothing!” the medic cringed, clawing at his glove to free himself. “I only gave her a mild sedative! She was in distress...”

“You caused that,” Essan guessed. “You planned to take advantage of her.”

He wanted to feel the cartilage crack against bone, to block the air ways and spill blood.

“You can stop,” he heard Tayleen next to him. “He’s not worth it.”

Reluctantly, Essan released the medic and he fought to find his balance, holding his own blue neck. His mouth gaped for air and he tried to speak. But his face met a small orange fist and he fell backwards, hitting the floor miserably.

Essan caught her before she lost balance herself, still dazed, still weak from an ordeal he didn’t know about.

“We’re leaving,” he told the soldiers who had no objections whatsoever.

*

Seeing her so vulnerable and helpless ate at him, and he stayed by her side while Doctor Lokin examined her with his rudimentary medical scanner, in his small quarters aboard the Phantom. Kaliyo was there, too, leaning in the door frame. Vector Hyllus was waiting, worried, in the lobby.

“She is dehydrated and suffers from high blood pressure,” Lokin reported, reading the results on his scanner. “Whatever happened, she needs to rest.” He rubbed his gray-haired chin. “I’m afraid going on a mission at the moment would be ill-advised for her. Apologies, Lord Wrath.”

The title sounded like an insult. It meant nothing here, it did no good.

“Can’t she just avoid being on the field? It would work.” He had to make it work.

“Not for her, I’m sorry.” The older man hesitated, and Essan sensed his reservation. His fear. “She should have told you about it, by now.”

“Told me about what?”

The silence in the room was heavy and deafening. No one dared to hold his gaze when he turned to face each of them. Lokin was the exception. He looked utterly glum.

“I would have hoped that she would be awake to give you the news herself.” With those words, he handed him the datapad that showed a list of various health numbers and tests. “We will give you some space.”

They all left him alone with Tayleen, who was in an agitated sleep from the mild fever. Essan scrolled down the datapad. The last line he read made him hold his breath.

Removing his hood and helmet, he came up to Tayleen and touched her arm to gently wake her up. She needed to know that he was there for her. He needed her to be with him at that very moment.

“Tayleen,” he whispered, but his sobbing turned it into a whimper. “It’s me, Essan.”

He was afraid she wouldn’t recognise him. Her eyes widened slightly and she sucked in a short breath, trying to rest on her elbows, looking disoriented.

“We’re on the Phantom,” he answered her silent question. “Try to get some rest.”

He gently rested a hand on her arm to encourage her to lay back down. Upon focusing on his face, she complied, docile and tired, lying on her side as she held his hand in hers. Her shiny, wet eyes did not break from his sight though her lips twitched downward. Essan leaned down and drew on the Force, making the desk chair slide across the room for him to sit beside Tayleen. She slowly blinked, looking at his mask on the nearby table.

“You need to go to Rishi,” she sternly told him.

“Not while you’re here, not like this.” Essan squeezed her hand but she pulled it away, cushioning her head against the mattress which looked too hard on her ear cone. “I’m so sorry, Tayleen. I should have been there.”

“But how could you know what was happening?” she whispered, tears rolling down her nose and towards the bed. “This probably means we’re not meant to be together.”

“Tayleen,” he protested, weak and desperate as heat burned the back of his eyes.

“Believe me, it’s better this way,” she added, even more quietly.

Her soft smile broke his heart.

“I must protect you,” he insisted, tightening his empty hand into a fist. “I would give my life for you.”

His eyes shifted to her stomach, where he assumed the new life she carried was slowly growing. She caught his gaze, a concerned look washing over her face.

“I couldn’t live with the guilt,” she said. “You belong to the galaxy. You are too important to be sacrificing yourself for one person.”

“Why are we debating this?” He brushed a gloved thumb under his right eye.

“Because you value my opinion,” she smiled again. “And you know it’s the right thing. Essan...” Searching his face, she seemed to be focusing on thoughts that escaped her before squinting. “I will be fine. I told everything to Darth Marr, and he knows... everything.”

“Marr?” He couldn’t believe it, but why would she lie about that? “He knew when we met on his flagship?”

She nodded, swallowing with difficulty. “He will be watching over me - over our child - if anything happened.”

The hot, wet sobs flowed over him at the words she said. She already had plans for the future. How could he have been so naive as to think he was eternal? How could he think she would be so careless as to place her entire fate upon him?

He felt a warm hand on his cheek and he lightly leaned into it, rubbing his fingers on his eyes. He wanted so much to feel her physical form, to hug her and kiss her. Even though she was awake and aware of him, he couldn’t feel any of the warmth she had given him, nearly a month before. Had he been a woman in her shoes he would have been in a much worse condition. He never expected her to go for a member of the Dark Council, there were other ways to deal with this-

“Are you keeping it?” he suddenly asked at the lurch in his heart.

She nodded again.

“Do you know... if it’s a girl or a boy?”

“Essan,” she interrupted him, shifting to turn towards the ceiling, the back of her hand to her forehead. “Please, it’s too soon to tell, and if I could know I wouldn’t care either way.”

“You’re right,” he hesitated, although he felt much calmer. “It’s not important.” He searched his muddled thoughts and furrowed his brow. “I would very much like to be part of his or her life...” He paused, for effect and to catch her attention. “And yours.”

Turning her head over her lekku, she eyed him cautiously, hiding her lips as she bit them. Without a word, she held out her hand for him to hold.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” he asked, hopeful.

“It’s a ‘no promises’,” she said, making an effort to sit up, sliding her legs to the side of the cot. She sighed and leaned down to look him in the eye. “Darth Marr told me he was ready to kill you if you ever betrayed me.”

Essan scoffed and chuckled at the same time. “I didn’t think he would care so much about... This. Us.”

Tayleen blinked and her jaw muscles worked for a moment. “He cares a great deal. It’s been two weeks since he’s known about us. I trust him.”

“You truly amaze me. I didn’t know...”

She smiled mischievously over him. Her face was very close to his as he looked up. If he stood straighter he was sure their noses would touch.

“For a Force user, there’s a lot you don’t know.”

He returned her humourous tone. “That’s why I need an Intelligence Operative with me.”

“Are you suggesting you lack Intelligence?” she slyly retorted, her warm breath falling on his skin.

“I compensate that with other skills,” he whispered back.

She burst out laughing, sending a small spray of saliva on him. Essan wiped his face with reserved amusement while she giggled behind her hand.

“I’m so sorry.”

They heard foot steps behind the door and someone knocked. They shouted “come in!” in unison and Lokin opened, looking relieved before he entered. He carried a small crate that set on his desk. Essan only too late realised with horror that he hadn't put on his mask, and neither of Tayleen nor Lokin had seemed to mind.

“I hope I did not interrupt anything,” he said distractingly. Essan sneered at him. The scientist plugged a device to his computer terminal before facing them holding a scanner of some sort. “I bought this off the Galactic Trade Network.”

Tayleen raised a brow after a moment. “What is it, Eckard?”

“Oh, nothing of great design. A simple sonic pulsation analysis scanner. It produces sonic pulses that travel through matter and are bounced back to my receptor her, that renders a three-dimensional picture of the scanned area.”

They both looked at each other and Essan saw the same surprise and anticipation on Tayleen’s face.

“But,” she said worriedly, “isn’t it too soon to actually see anything?”

“It’s not as precise as an actual biopsy or live sample, if you will.”

“Lokin!” she protested.

“Ah, yes. Please accept my apology, Agent. Ah, well... If you would humor me, and allow me access to your lower abdomen?”

Biting her lower lip, Tayleen looked to Essan and he smiled to her, touching her shoulder. She nodded and lied back, pulling up her top to reveal her orange-skinned belly. He tried not to show reaction at the sight of her navel, or of anything else for that matter.

Lokin arrived with the round-ended scanner and it glided on the surface of Tayleen’s skin, leaving a trail of wet lotion. They all turned or craned their neck to watch the terminal. There was nothing but graininess and indescribable tissues and organs. The colors were dark and gray and sometimes blue. After a decade of ripping apart the bodies of his enemies, Essan nearly couldn’t hold his stomach down.

“We are passed the bladder, kidney, and... Yes, there’s your utherus.” He pointed vaguely in a general direction. “And there’s the attached pre-embryonic organism. Right there.”

The picture stopped moving so fast and Essan saw what he was talking about. It looked like a bubble.

“See?” Tayleen told him. “It’s not even a life form yet.”

“Theoretically, yes,” intervened Lokin. “But practically? It’s less significant than a mole on your back, or a growth wherever else on your body...” He moved around just a bit, zooming out. His mouth gaped. “It seems I have missed a whole other part of your womb, here.” He managed to pause the picture and move up from Tayleen’s abdomen to look closer at the screen, rubbing his bearded chin. “Of course!”

“What is it, Lokin?” pressingly asked Essan. He wanted to stand right next to him to add psychological pressure but he felt the weight of Tayleen’s hand on his.

“It seems,” replied the Doctor with a wide grin, “that you may be expecting twins. Congratulations, once again!”

At loss for words, they all looked in bewilderment at the two separate placentas on the screen.

“Two,” Essan spoke, baffled. “You have two bubbles.”

His eyes trailed down her belly again, horrified at the small proportion of her overall size and cursed himself for having done... so much. In so little time. Tayleen rubbed her hand on her upper arm.

“It’s okay, relax.”

But he couldn’t relax. Running a gloved hand upon his face, he looked up at Lokin. “Are you certain this wasn’t some sort of glitch?”

“I am positive, my Lord.” He leaned against his desk and folded his arms in thought. “This would explain your high levels of oestrogen and the sudden bouts of fatigue. I’m not an obstetritian, but we can safely assume that the side-effects of pregnancy are doubled when you’re having twins.”

“And so are the risks,” she added grimly.

“Unfortunately.”

“What risks?” Essan asked, almost in panic.

Tayleen kept her hand on him as if he was more in need of comfort than she. Her face looked too tired to be excited or scared.

“Our species don’t exactly match, genetically. It would be very lucky if both of the bubbles turn out fine.”

“If the bubbles would even progress into embryos,” corrected Lokin.

“He’s right,” Tayleen concurred. “We shouldn’t get our hopes up.”

Essan nodded because he didn’t know what else to say. They both sighed together, looking at their medic. Lokin appeared very much out of his depths. He dug his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you, Lokin,” Essan said.

“Anything you need, I will do my best to provide,” the older man said with a short bow. “You are aware of my field of expertise, Agent. As soon as it would be safe to proceed, it will be possible to monitor the embryos down to the single amino-acid. I would make it my life’s purpose to see them grow healthy and,” he hesitated, his stare drifting towards Essan, “worthy of their parents’ attributes.”

She nodded at him gratefully, wiping the gel from her stomach with her sleeve before pulling her clothes back on.

“We’d better vacate the room,” she told Essan, rolling to her side to get off the bed, “this is where Lokin lives.”

He tried to smile at the scientist but concern made his lips twitch awkwardly. After grabbing his mask, Essan followed Tayleen out to the lounge, relieved to find no one from the rest of her crew. She took him to her cabin.

They had first kissed in that room. Essan kept himself from sighing, watching her remove the scarf from around her neck. She tossed her belt on the chair and sat on her bed to kick off her boots.

“Tayleen... What is going on?”

“I’m getting comfortable. These clothes were meant for Rishi. It seems strange to be wearing them now.”

“It’s not too late to go, I mean-” He cut himself short and decided to sit beside her. She didn’t flinch or repel from him, and he took it as a good sign. “Whatever you decide is best.”

“Then I decide you should go with Lana Beniko,” she told him bluntly. “She is the best option you have, and I’ll know you’ll be safe with her.” She pulled a nearby drawer from her clothing cabinet and extracted a piece of fabric. She began undressing and Essan instinctively averted his eyes. “I don’t want you to worry about me everyday, Essan. That’s why I’m pulling back from the whole operation.”

She kept her underwear before slipping into what looked like an oversized short-sleeved shirt made of silk. It was white, flowy and suited her with elegance. He couldn’t see himself dragging her to war while she wasn’t wearing trousers.

“You probably won’t hear from me very often,” he warned her, “because if our suspicions are right, this may lead me quite far, for a long time.” One name came to his mind but he dared not speak for fear of accidentally summoning a Force ghost. “And I will miss you beyond anything I have ever felt.”

She squeezed the hand that rested on the mattress and he looked at both their fingers tangling together. He wanted to remove his gloves but it was too late.

“I will miss you too,” she whispered.

 


	6. Berith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tayleen has retreated to the edges of the Outer Rim, safe and sound while her pregnancy progresses. But her world comes crumbling down when an unknown force appears...

She logged in to her secure channel, as she did each morning ever since moving into her new home in the Outer Rim. With a cup of warm tea in one hand, sitting on the couch, she laid the other upon her belly. It was beginning to weigh on her and shoot sharp pains in her spine from time to time.

It had been five months since Revan was dealt with, thanks to a strange cooperation between the Empire and the Republic, under the council of Darth Marr and Bastila Shan. The Holonet news still wrote about the exploits of the Wrath, coordinating forces between both factions and the Mandalorian clans. And then Ziost had happened. She still wondered how things had gone so fast.

How things had changed, and not just for her. The empire was no longer the same after Ziost, even Marr had changed; he’d become more impatient than calm, and his regular check-ins went scarce.

She felt a nudge, or a kick, and gasped before setting her cup down on the wooden desk. She soothed her swollen abdomen, shushing her unborn children. It wasn’t time yet, especially since they had to share room and nutrients, they needed all the time they could get within the warm safety of their mother.

“Don’t be in such a hurry,” she spoke to the both of the twins. “The galaxy isn’t ready for you yet.”

She feared it wouldn’t be welcoming them peacefully any time soon, if things went by the way she was used to.

But living on her own on quiet planet Berith had shrouded her world with boredom and her intel research for Essan and Lana had been her sole motivation - aside from carrying her children to term. Kaliyo often came to visit, bringing supplies, and obviously Lokin helped with his ever-expanding medical expertise.

Berith was colonized barely a century ago, bringing a single Imperial outpost with a handful of families crazy or miserable enough to try their hands at agriculture, wind and solar farms. The climate was warm and dry because of the constant winds and storms. From her kitchen window facing south, she could see the daily transit of the supply freighter.

According to the local news, geologists had discovered gas pockets under the surface and were trying to come up with some way to extract it and produce fuel. More and more materials were being shipped in to build their research center and a town to house the future miners and the security personnel to protect the compound.

The chime of her food warmer brought her attention back to her kitchen counter. She took the bowl of rice out of the oven and poured spinach broth over it. Her tea wasn’t cold yet that she felt like eating a salty meal already. She resumed her seat on the couch while watching a queued comedy show from the night before. She did anything that could distract her from moping about her inability to work out or to leave the planet. Located far from the nearest civilian outpost, her house was surrounded by woods of pine trees and winding creeks. Each day, she took a short hike in the wild nature that was her neighborhood, listening to the call of tiny avian species, watching the sky turn from red to yellow then blue.

She missed Essan but not his intense worrying. She missed her ship and she missed everyone tied to her previous life. She kept making plans to return to her duties once the twins were born and old enough to be left under trusted care. She knew they would be fine as long as she was careful not to raise suspicion as to who their father was.

Two episodes flew by and she was still typing on her datapad, chatting with Lokin while he was on Dromund Kaas. The geneticist had been busy gathering all of the data he could find about Twi’lek and Rattataki DNA, cross-breeding and the effect of the Force on a pregnancy. She had noticed that her dreams were more blurred and vivid with emotions of fear for the last two months. In her sleep, she had started talking out loud. She felt that she knew the silent voices she heard in her head.

The voices spoke no words but she understood them nonetheless. Except for the times when they spoke to each other. Even then, it brought her to smile with endearment. Despite the back pain, the constant pressure on her bladder and her weight gain, she loved the two little beings that depended entirely on her for survival. She was ready to kill an entire army for them.

She woke from her nap no later than two hours later. There were no appliances or devices left online but she heard a bleep. Getting up from the couch, she leaned forward and looked at the red flash coming from her datapad.

The red flash meant it was an important news notification, the type of message that was sent to all Berith inhabitants to warn them of solar flares and the resulting electro-magnetic disruption. Yes, Berith was a safe haven, but not for circuitry and comms. She pressed the notification open and all capital letters drew her awake.

INCOMING ORBITAL ASSAULT. UNKNOWN ENEMY FORCE. PLEASE REFER TO YOUR LOCAL SECURITY COMMAND POST FOR EVACUATION. DO NOT BRING MORE THAN ONE BAG WITH YOU.

Her heart jumped to her throat then sunk violently and the twins began shifting and kicking and- oh! What was she going to do?

Her willed herself back to her senses and tried to walk as quickly as she could to grab her bag. It was meant for this sort of event, perhaps not exactly an invasion, but she read somewhere she had to have a pack ready for medical emergencies. It was in a closet beneath her outfits and it was light but still she had to use both of her hands to lift it up. Tears fought to climb up to her eyes and she refused to sulk or to think about her lack of aid. She grabbed her boots to slip them over her leggings. At the last moment, before going through the door, she fetched her jacket and her datapad. Once she was ready to leave, she gave the house one last look to check if she hadn’t forgotten anything.

The comlink was in her hand, and she punched in the secure code to connect to Darth Marr’s private line. She waited, and waited. Being in the Outer Rim had its perks, but had more downsides. Eventually the call connected with a click.

“Lord Marr,” she called, trying to breathe calmly. “Berith is under attack.”

“Stay where you are,” she heard the stern man’s voice. “Do not engage the enemy, and do not join the evacuation transports. They will be specifically targeted.”

“What’s going on?” She felt her cheeks flush as heat overcame her, she took a seat on the couch, rubbing her belly to calm herself and her children. “How do you know this?”

There was a pause, as if Marr was busy talking to someone else. “We have seen this happen to other planets,” he answered, an ominous tone weighing on each word. “You must remain hidden. This enemy is illusive and we weren’t able to predict their next attack.”

“How am I supposed to wait while the planet is being invaded?” she questioned him, almost rhetorically since he wasn’t there to really know what she could do. Her datapad kept bleeping the same notification. Turning on the Holonet news, she browsed to the “War” category to find more information about these invaders.

“We have no intel so far,” Marr told her over the line across half of the galaxy. “All we know is that, for each time this fleet comes out of hyperspace, entire battalions fall. They were all Imperial.”

She cursed through her teeth and she felt another nudge from one of the twins. She placed a hand to her side where she was touched and gathered her courage.

“Where is Essan?”

Another pause. She began to resent Marr and she pondered whether or not to let him know that, too.

“He is on his way from the Ilum sector, investigating a recent battleground. You won’t have to contact him.”

Even though that information relieved her worry, she still needed to know more.

“How long has this been happening?” she continued asking, grasping at straws.

“The first encounter predates from a month ago.” He paused again, and she heard his tired sigh. “I must return to my post, Tayleen. Remember your instructions.”

The final click to end the transmission almost made her lose her center. She had hoped to keep someone on the line with her, for the company more than actual help.

How was she supposed to stay safe in an ordinary house? It had no security measures, no defense systems. In all of her carrier as an operative, she had never been ordered to stay put and wait. Wait for the storm to hit and to pass.

The local news feed was bombarded with security instructions, telling people to evacuate. Berith had perhaps a hundred thousand citizens, not counting military personnel. How could so many be shipped out in such short period of time? She stood at her kitchen window with a pair of binoculars, knowing that most orbital descents were visible from there. What she saw made her eyes water.

It looked like a grid in the sky. They were probably a dozen or more, cross-shaped and white, hanging over the atmospheric vault of the planet. What came down from there was more terrifying, but more familiar to her and she could not deny the invasion once she saw the transports almost crashing in the distant horizon. They were small, and they were many.

Her mind fought to stay alert and made mental calculations. If her house was located ninety kilometers from the outpost and if the invaders were landing at full speed, they would have between half a minute and ten seconds to notice that, in a small clearing in the middle of a patch of woods, at the end of a river that turned into a creek, there was a small house.

It should have been a bunker. She should have buried herself in the depths of this remote, backwater, hopeless rock of a planet. Her crew were currently halfway across the galaxy in the Core Worlds, even if they could help it would take a week for them to arrive.

She clenched her teeth until her jaw hurt. Running was pointless. The galaxy always caught up to bite you in the ass with its war and desolation. She couldn’t cry even if she wanted to, because no farther than the horizon, people were being chased from their homes and killed. For what? What were these invaders looking for? Gas? Slaves?

She didn’t understand and it drove her furiously angry. If not for the twins reacting to her shifting temper, she would have stormed out to survey the area. Instead, she sat on the couch, nestling her comlink against her breasts before sliding into a stressed slumber.

Hours passed and neither did the Holonet not the local news feed provided any more help or details. Even the notifications had stopped. It meant that the enemy had gotten to the central security command post and no broadcasting was possible from now on. If she had changed her mind about evacuating, it was too late. She was stuck on Berith while it was being torn to shreds, and the many years that had been spent building this colony were gone to waste.

One of the twins kicked her harder than she had ever felt. What the- she pressed on her side and let out a short cry to tell her child to cut it out. Whichever that was, she wanted to remember their face in order to scold them later, when they would be able to understand her words and sit in a corner for ten minutes. Either of them had a strong temper, for as much as she knew. Telling them apart was going to be a problem.

“Don’t hurt mommy,” she growled, wincing. But she got another nudge, softer this time, as if her message was received.

She had done extensive reading about twins, how they grew up and learned together, communicated without words - even without the Force to sense emotions - and lived their lives in tune to each other. Even set apart, they were still linked to one another.

The ordeal put pressure on her bowels and she hurried to the refreshers. She saw her reflection in the mirror and looked away. She didn’t need to be reminded that she looked ten pounds heavier and had lost the habit of applying makeup. None of her old clothes fit and she had to get used to look like a civilian in order to adapt to her ever-growing belly.

She walked out of the refreshers and into the living room, and she felt cold. Shivering, she closed the collar of her jacket, confused because she knew she hadn’t turned on the air conditioning that morning.

And then she felt it. She didn’t have Force powers, but she could get an inkling as to what her twins felt and this time, she was terrified.

But it wasn’t _her_ fear, she told herself. She was their protector, and she couldn’t afford to be terrified like this. Her fingers unfastened the clip to her holster and took the blaster she hid in her jacket. A loud rumble made her gut churn and it felt as if the twins snuggled fast and close to her body despite how big they had grown. Then there was silence.

A big crash sent the living room window flying into shards and Tayleen ducked behind her couch. She used the momentum to turn on herself, crouching to face the backdoor, clutching at her pistol. She fired two rounds at the approaching silver figure. One shot hit the metallic dome of its head and it rattled. It was a droid. A tall, bulky and very soldier-like droid. It shot it’s rifle at her but was already firing more shots at its optic sensors. Her training kicked in and she pulled out her vibroblade, planting it in the droid’s spine, sending the machine in a frantic spasm of electric pain. She ducked again as shots flew her way. There were more and they had her surrounded.

Goodbye, house. She threw a thermal detonator after setting it to short delay activation.

She _rolled_ and the explosion rendered her deaf. Again, she had no idea how she managed with her ten-pound cargo, but she found herself in her bedroom, resting and panting heavily at the foot of her bed. She was out of shape. The air was thick with the smell of ozone, gas and explosives, and she could feel the wind on her skin. Her twins complained as they writhed against each other.

“Shh,” she said, “it’s only noise.”

But it wasn’t. She knew this was only the beginning. She could count only on her own combat skills to survive this. She had more detonators in her closet. Still numb by the first conflagration, she went through her things and hurriedly unpacked a second bag. She knew she was wasting time. She knew there was something she had missed.

It felt like static, and it felt powerful. The golden light came out of nowhere and silence set in, only to leave the dreadfully familiar humming noise close to her tremble.

Slowly, she turned her head towards the blinding bright weapon that threatened to burn her eye out. She couldn’t let them see her fear. She couldn’t let them know.

The lightsaber tip moved to her throat, and she finally saw the one holding it. A human male dressed in black and gold. She let out a breath, dropped her weapon and searched the figure for any telltale sign of affiliation. Was it a Jedi? A Sith?

All of the targeted worlds had been Imperial, she remembered Marr saying over the comlink. She remained cautious and slowly stood on her feet, and the man in front of her eyed her midsection curiously. He looked quite unthreatening for a human; his skin was pale and his light-brown hair was cropped short like a soldier. When he spoke, his tone was commanding and the accent over his Basic was from no specific world.

“What _are_ you?”

“Never seen a Twi’lek before?” she sneered, while she could have asked the same.

The man kept his mouth shut, waiting and curiously gazing at her. It must have been her Imperial accent. But now she knew he wasn’t her rescue party. Her twins kicked shyly and she shut her eyes, begging them mentally so they would keep calm.

Another man arrived through the now non-existent bay window, stepping on cracked glass debris. He was dressed in a similar attire but white instead of black, and he looked exactly like the man who was first in her room. They were identical and it made her furrow her brow.

Twins.

She gasped, and the two men looked at each other: one was confused and angry, the other merely squinted and shook his head.

“Who are you?” asked the man wearing the black tunic.

She had to take advantage of this respite. They were killers. That was all she could assume from the little clues she had.

“I’m not talking to any of you,” she spat.

The second twin ignited his lightsaber, also of gold color, and angrily threatened to slash her with it. He stopped at the last moment, eyed by the other man whose face was as stoic as if he’d worn a mask. Tayleen kept her smile to herself. They were codependent, she could use that.

“You will come with us,” commanded the first one.

“I’m not doing that, either,” she protested, fighting to keep a calm demeanor. “Not unless you tell me where you’re from, who you are, and where we’re going.”

With a cold stare, he pointed the tip of his lightsaber to her belly. “I don’t care whether you live or die. These two, however...” His steel blue eyes met with hers. “I could easily tear you open and have them taken away. You’d be left with nothing, not even your own miserable life.”

Her throat locked with how cruel he sounded, and how exposed she felt when he’d acknowledged her children. He could _sense_ them and she was livid. Her instincts were to escape, but she could visualize a lightsaber cutting her in two and draining her life away. There was no running this time.

She would have to face whatever the galaxy was throwing at her eventually. And this was far from what she had ever imagined.

The transport ship that landed just outside her house was a model she’d never seen before. Not even as a prototype. Four war droids repelled down, aiming their rifles at her. The transport touched down and she felt her heart aching so badly she thought her chest would burst open.

The two men - were they brothers? clones? - lead her towards the ship but Tayleen stayed back. The one in black stalled and gave her an annoyed look, pulling her by the upper arm. She resisted him, however tightly he pressed on.

“I need my bag,” she said over the sound of the running engines. Her voice cracked. “M- my emergency bag.”

He eyed her suspiciously. He looked young but as tired as a grizzled veteran who had seen too many battles. The other brother clung at the ship’s rail with an impatient expression on his identically young face.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pained to breathe, feeling her knees weaken under her. _Not now, please not now._ She swallowed hard but kept her eyes to the ground.

With a rough sigh, the black-clad man went back into her house. Tayleen was left to stare at the white-clad brother, whose eyes could have been laser turrets had he followed the other one with a guiding system and ammunition. He appeared to be even more angry than she was, and obviously disapproved of the whole situation. It would have been easier if he could kill her, but he stayed his hand and walked over to her, almost stomping with fury, and brutally pulled her away from the house and into the transport. She felt a crack in her shoulder. Her babies kicked and wanted to turn to find an escape. Once she could sit on the bench, she placed her hands upon them and quietly shushed them for reassurance.

The black-clad one came aboard the transport, holding her duffel bag. It was closed contrarily to how she had left it in the living room. He stowed it beneath the bench and sat next to her. The droid troopers came back in the remaining area of the cargo hold. The other brother stayed standing, seething in silence and looking outside as the ship lifted and took off.

Tayleen looked down as well, beyond the man’s head as he was sitting in the way. Her house was just a spec in the middle of the green forest. The land stretched below and they flew through the atmosphere for many minutes. She didn’t hold her breath, as the pain was still there in her lungs, transferring to her abdomen. She winced at a constant rate and she didn’t know where exactly it hurt. But it did hurt.

“Please, not now,” she whispered to herself, rubbing the side of her belly.

It caught the men’s attention. One had a disgusted expression while the other was genuinely scared. His lips parted and he turned towards her, his ungloved hand touched her shoulder.

Her eyes felt like fire and she shot him a glance that made him pull away.

“When are you due?” he hesitantly asked.

She could lie and bluff about her actual term, but they were obviously Force sensitive. They would find out.

“I have still two months to go,” she said and squinted under another nerve-wrecking spasm.

Saying nothing, he stared at her belly and his brow lowered with focus. It made her shift in her seat with discomfort. She felt invaded once more, and she didn’t want her children to be exposed to such an aggression so soon in their lives.

“Your babies are fine,” he told her with a tone that wanted to be comforting, but it turned her blood to ice. “We’ll take you to a medical facility aboard our flagship.”

His blue eyes looked up to confirm with the one dressed in white. Tayleen looked at him as well, only to see him cringe.

“This is a waste of time.” He pierced the other one with his gaze, almost growling as he turned away again.

Tayleen felt a tear roll cold on her right cheek as the wind blew across the cabin.

“What did you do?” she muttered to neither of them in particular. “Why did you come to this planet?”

The air rarefied, and the hatches closed as the ship rose high in the atmosphere. The life support system kicked in. The one sitting next to her leaned on his elbows and she could see his jaw muscles working tightly. His eyes were fixed on a point in front of him. Tayleen risked looking at the one in white and gold clothes. He stared back at her and his smirk was unexpectedly vicious.

They were expecting her to be afraid and to whimper pitifully. She wasn’t going to let them see it, or sense it. She turned over to her unborn children, mentally singing a lullaby she had relearned when coming to live on Berith. Her mother had sung it to her when she was small and afraid. She closed her eyes and with the loud noise of the engines as they emerged from atmosphere and into orbit, she let her voice ring still and true as she hummed, and peace came over her.

*

The docking umbilical had viewports and once she accommodated to the artificial gravity she could focus on her wits. They were in space, she saw the stars up close for the first time in a while. The ship they were boarding was the size of a large freighter. Beyond it, she could see the grid, the formation so large it escaped her field of vision and she could only assume it was their fleet.

More droid infantry stood guard and some wore golden armor and wielded laser staves. The one in white attire walked ahead while she waddled behind, deliberately slow, and beside her was the other twin and he was carrying her duffel bag.

“What is the name of your people?” she asked.

“We are the people of Zakuul,” replied the man. He turned a solemn gaze towards her. “We are the Eternal Empire.”

Upon learning this, she widened her eyes. It wasn’t so much the absurdity of such a claim, to be eternal, but it was rather the implied thought that something had gone under her radar for a very long time. And they had missed it: the Empire, the Republic, the Sith and the Jedi. They had failed somehow, with their heads buried in the sand, pitted against each other in constant war.

“Are we at war with you?” she asked again, biding her time.

He hesitated, and she noticed him straightening his back. “It depends on whose side you are.”

“I am on no one’s side. I can’t be your prisoner if I’m not part of your war.”

He stopped in his stride, making her stop to face him, and the other man slowed to see what they were doing. Tayleen let the first man talk, unwavering.

“You aren’t a prisoner,” he flatly spoke. “We’ve conquered your world. Now you belong with us.”

“That’s quite the assumption,” she replied, unrattled. “My world is far across the galaxy and is neutral towards Empire or Republic.”

“Why are you debating this?” he protested, grabbing her arm so that they resumed walking. “We have _no choice_ but to bring you with us. You would be dead if not for the Force users you carry.”

Tayleen wanted to yank her arm free but thought better of it. “Is that what your people does? Kidnap Force sensitive twins and turn them into soldiers?”

She caught glimpse of a golden helmet turning upon hearing her words. The hold of her bicep tightened and she could see the man clenching his jaw again. She instantly felt sorry as she understood his reaction and her question had hit a nerve. On the other hand, the white-clad brother waiting near the elevator raised a disapproving eyebrow at her. Or was it towards his brother?

“Be glad we found you in time before more of our droids found your house,” he growled.

“I feel so lucky,” she spoke back with sarcasm. “You’ve given me so much choice so far.”

Reluctantly stepping inside the elevator cabin, she tried to hold her breath during the ride so as to better hear that of her kidnappers, but they sounded perfectly calm. Somehow she still refused to see them as anything else than abductors. Their faction - their _eternal empire_ \- meant nothing to her.

“So, what sort of strategy is this anyway? Invading Berith, because it’s quiet and peaceful and you thought you’d start small before hitting one of the Core Worlds?”

“Something like that,” the black-clad one muttered through his teeth.

“If you do not silence her, I will.”

Tayleen raised an eyebrow at the other twin. “This one had better not be in charge of anything, not with that temper.”

However they felt or thought of her last remark, she heard nothing of it and they took her to a sort of medical bay. There were different aisles and rooms but she noticed no gurneys, no medical staff wandering about with charts. No busy droids pushing trolleys full of instruments and supplies. They were probably short-staffed.

Or in no need of a medical staff at all. So far, she had seen a lot of droids.

“No chance to see a maternity ward, I guess,” she commented.

They took a turn into a room and she found a medical cot with a single scanning machine. There was one droid and it motioned to the cot. Tayleen looked over her shoulder. The brother who seemed to call the shots around there put her bag down near the entrance and motioned with his chin at medical scanner.

“Do as the droid says.”

“How about a ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ some time around?”

He lowered his brow at her. Tayleen frowned sadly as she felt the pull of fatality tugging at her heart. The last time she had had a sonogram of her babies, Lokin and Essan had been there, and she had shown the picture to Kaliyo and even Darth Marr. Essan and herself had been adamant about not knowing the gender of the twins and no one had seemed to mind.

“What’s the point of all this?” she said before lying down. “Don’t you already know what’s in there through the Force?”

“This isn’t for us,” he replied, walking over to the machine. She felt complied to lie down as he tapped a command on the screen. “If you won’t tell who the father is, this scanner will.”

“But that will require genetic sampling...” she suspiciously said.

“That’s the idea.”

The droid arrived to her bedside holding out a syringe. The needle was long and Tayleen felt a kick from one of her twins.

“It’s alright,” she whimpered, instantly feeling tears brimming at her eyelids.

She placed her hands to either side of her and took long and deep breaths before pulling up her top. Staring at the dark ceiling, she thought of home, the peaceful landscape of pine forest she could see through her bedroom window. The constant bird song from morning to dusk.

 _Ow_.

She felt the prick of the needle more intensely than she’d expected. What sort of barbaric civilization was this, where prenatal examinations still required live sampling? Didn’t they know about painless subdermic needles? The pain grew threefold as both of her babies reacted to the assault and she didn’t register crying out loud, neither did she feel the hand that came to rest upon her shoulder. She muted herself and breathed with difficulty, trying not to show her distress.

“Amniotic sample extracted,” spoke the droid. It placed a piece of bandage on her skin where the needle was pulled out. Tayleen felt a light pressure and the droid turned on its mechanical feet to begin analysis.

“This could have been avoided,” said the man, looking up at the data screen. He removed his hand from her. “Shall we begin talking?”

Wiping tears from her face, she pulled her top back over her belly and attempted to sit up. The man took a slow step backwards and leaned against the data terminal. The other brother was still by the door, arms folded impatiently. After months in isolation, Tayleen would have liked a better option for company. Looking up, she saw the scan of her belly and gasped. The picture was a clear render of her two children, wrapped over themselves at the same time holding each other. She saw the short lekku of Zherrys, and the tiny little ears of Ceyrin. Both seemed to be facing away from the unwanted observer.

“I’d rather get some rest,” she softly said, turning to the more sensible brother, if allowing her to be painfully stabbed by a needle was by any lengths sensible.

“You can rest once we have sufficent information from you.” He looked at the screen again. “What is your name and who were you hiding from?”

Everything seemed pointless now. All of the precautions taken, all the sneaking around and secrets. They had simply taken her away from it all.

“Tayleen Pansahu,” she spoke under her breath. “I was hoping to find shelter from the war, to give my children hope for a better life.”

“Force sensitives tend to be thrust into war, sooner or later.” He looked down at her with pity in his grayish eyes. “They are half Rattataki. Such a mix won’t go unnoticed. Wouldn’t you want them to be prepared for anything? To be trained by the best and to become the most powerful warriors in the galaxy?”

“I want for them to have a childhood,” she pleaded. “Surrounded by people who care for them and who love them.”

While she spoke with emotion, she saw him throw a glance at his brother before looking at her again. The other one walked towards them and sat on the bed. Tayleen shifted and tried to move away.

“We are the Princes of Zakuul,” he said pompously. “The sons of Emperor Valkorion. Jedi Masters and Sith lords alike have fallen under our might. Your children could benefit from our teachings.”

“They would never be left wanting,” the other prince continued, toneless, arms folded against his chest. “All of their needs would be tended.”

Feeling utterly lost and trapped, Tayleen clutched at the hard mattress, feeling her heart racing with panic. She clenched her teeth.

“I will not abandon my children.”

Once again, they silently consulted each other and their wordless exchange made her eyes brim. How could they not understand? How heartless could they be?

The black-clad twin leaned away from the desk and took a knee in front of her. She had no choice but to look into his greyish blue eyes and he creased his forehead.

“No one said you would have to. I will see that you remain under our protection, Tayleen.” He took a breath and stood up. “I am Thexan, and this is Arcann. My father appointed me leader of the Eternal Fleet and you are now in my custody.” His brother got up from the bed and joined his side, crossing his arms defiantly. Thexan continued, stern in his expression. “The Eternal Empire is expanding, demonstrating its power and influence. Your Sith Empire and the Republic are no match for us. However...”

“Are you going to invade every system?” she interrupted, at the pit of her despair.

“All things in good time,” said Arcann, not a least disturbed by her tears.

Thexan bit his lips before he resumed his speech. “We will spare those we value as worthy. The father of your children could be one of them.”

“He wouldn’t surrender without a fight.”

Arcann, the one in white garments, with hair a shade lighter than his brother, smirked again.

“They rarely do.”

She looked up at Thexan and his face was neither smug nor spiteful. He was waiting on her decision.

“I believe you still have your comlink.”

The realization hit her like a rock. She fumbled in her pockets and her hand wrapped around her device. How had she not thought of it? But Tayleen stopped right then and there and she wondered how she could get out of this second trap. No, this could not happen...

“Why?” she simply asked.

The one named Arcann rolled his eyes to the ceiling and stepped away. Thexan propped his hands on his hips where the exquisitly built lightsaber hilt was hanging from a black belt.

“Because we aren’t thieves,” he dryly answered. “Will you contact your husband?”

Squinting her eyes, Tayleen found her window.

“He is _not_ my husband. As a matter of fact, we aren’t in any relationship whatsoever.” She took in a breath and tried to wet her lips discretely. “If I contacted him now he would sense the trap right away.”

“Then it shouldn’t bother you to deliver the information we need in order to find him.”

“I’m not that stupid. Once I give you that intel, what’s to stop you from getting rid of me?”

She felt like her last lifeline was slipping away as Thexan stared at her, cold and oddly distant. She could feel a shiver running along her spine.

“Come with me,” he said, reaching his hand out to her.

It was large and calloused, unprotected by the half gloves that ran down his sleeves. Tayleen placed her smaller hand in it and felt the roughness like it was the paw of some animal. In comparison, Essan’s hands were as soft as her own.

After a moment when she processed this gesture and getting over her initial distaste, she let Thexan help her up. He was gentle, and when she looked up at his face he looked genuinely surprised that she did not protest.

Arcann was no where to be seen and she was grateful for it. Once they were out in the hallways they resumed walking. Tayleen could only go so fast so as not to become pressed by her biological needs. She only had one pair of spare pants and Thexan carried it with her duffel bag again.

Had he not been an invading enemy from a mysterious empire, she would have found him rather pleasant company.

“I need to go to the refreshers,” she complained before they left the medical bay.

Without speaking a word, he directed towards the door behind her. It held a logo she did not recognize and somehow it meant refreshers but she just had to trust her host. He followed her and she opened her eyes so wide she thought they would dry out.

Once inside she saw rows of sinks and stalls. Unisex refreshers. The decor was refined and immaculate

“Why is this place always so empty?” she asked, locked in the privacy of a stall and unfastening her trousers.

“We have no use for it,” Thexan replied. Not seeing his face was a relief, now she could focus on his tone, the subtle vibrations of his voice. “Most of our numbers consist of droids and our recruits keep to the barracks.”

“That’s convenient,” she replied, unimpressed by the sound she made while emptying her bladder. “I destroyed three of your droids, by the way. Are you going to bill me for that?”

“Two,” he corrected. “There were two skytroopers.”

“Ah, skytroopers? Well, I’m pretty sure there were three who broke into my house. And you don’t hear me complaining about the damage.”

She thought he heard him chuckle. “You did most of that with your thermal detonator. That really got our attention.”

After cleaning up she flushed and went to wash her hands. He was leaning against the wall by the door, arms folded. He and his brother looked so much alike, she thought they could have switched places while she wasn’t watching.

“You can fight,” Thexan said, “and you obviously know your way around an interrogation. What are you?”

She smirked at his reiterated question, rinsing the soap under the tap. “I was an Imperial Intelligence operative.” She reached for the hand dryer that activated on approach. She motioned her chin to her belly. “Then this happened.”

He followed her quick gaze and she saw him smile. Was he shy?

“The man responsible for this... Is he Sith?”

Tayleen pondered her options and headed out the door, expecting to be followed again and forever now that she was stuck there.

“He is a Sith lord,” she confirmed. “He was the Emperor’s Wrath. I mean... when Vitiate was still alive.”

“I’ve heard about him,” Thexan said. “The Wrath. I didn’t know he was Rattataki.”

They climbed into the elevator. “It makes no difference,” Tayleen continued, chatting with this prince like it was the most casual thing to do. “Most Imperials are xenophobic so he spends his time wearing a mask. I only saw him twice without it.”

They stepped out to a different level and this one was more furnished, with carpets, drapings in front of huge windows, expensive crystal lamps and it smelled of flower essences. Was it a hotel?

“You did mention having no relationship with him,” Thexan said, looking away although he seemed to be choosing a location for her. “Why is that?”

“You ask the wrong question,” Tayleen objected, waddling beside him, unsure whether or not to share stories of her intimate life with the enemy. “How would a Sith maintain a healthy relationship with the mother of his children?”

He stopped at a hall where the hallway split into two. She tried not to avert her eyes from his inquisitive gaze.

“Only a bad Sith would abide by a different set of rules than his own.”

“Is that supposed to compliment him?” she cynically asked, but knew she would get no answer. “Where is your brother?”

Caught off guard, Thexan moved his head back a little. “You shouldn’t feel concerned for Arcann.” He lead her to the hallways on his left. There was a door at the end of it. “Here are your quarters. Or cell, should you consider yourself detained here.”

He waved at the door and it slid open. She bit the inside of her cheek, mentally cursing Force users and their tricks.

“We normally keep these places for diplomatic visits.”

And indeed they looked diplomatic. The entrance and lobby had nothing but bay window, with a breath-taking view of the fleet and space. Then there was a dining area with a large table and seats. A second lounge with the most comfortable looking couches she had ever seen. Then there were two doors she assumed were the commodities and bedroom.

“I’m living on my savings at the moment,” she commented, taking it all in. “If this is some sort of ploy to try to get in my good graces...”

...it was working, she thought. Thexan set down her bag next to the bedroom and opened the doors for a final check. He came back to the lobby with a satisfactory smile at her baffled expression, then clasped his hands in his back.

“As I stated earlier, you are in my custody _and_ under my protection. I will arrange for a medical team to be dispatched on this floor should you require immediate attention.”

She put her hands on her belly, noticing how strangely calm her babies were. “This is too much.”

“We don’t do modest on Zakuul,” Thexan apologized. “You will adjust.”

“No, I mean,” she interrupted, hoping to keep him talking, “I have been on Berith for months, and haven’t met other people in a long time. And now, this.”

Thexan followed her gaze wandering the luxurious suite as if processing her words into thought. She felt her ankles and knees complain and moved over to one of the couches nearby.

The pillows sown with refined silk embroidery felt like floating in the air. Tayleen let out a sigh and tried to stretch her back. If this was payback for the trouble they’d caused, she was ready to accept it only for the sake of her back, and her knees and ankles and... _Kriff_ , she hurt everywhere these days.

“You appear to need rest,” spoke Thexan as he turned on his heels.

“I need to know,” she said loud enough, eyes fixed on the ceiling with its shiny spots that mimicked the stars and they shed a soft, dim light around the apartment. She looked back at Thexan. “What you intend to do to the Wrath when you find him.”

Giving her a sideways look of uncertainty, he closed his mouth and let out a breath through his nostrils.

“You said you were on no one’s side. Has that changed?”

“Only if I find out you are being dishonest.”

She wanted to cross her arms but the posture felt awkward now with her pregnancy. She kept her fierce stare on Thexan who by no means attempted to come near her again.

“I am nothing of the sort,” he defensively retorted, the roughness in his voice spiking her interest. “Though I am not solely in charge and I refer to the Emperor when it comes to certain things.”

So there was his weakness, the Emperor. She could not shake the surprise from her face when she heard the slight tremor of his tone, and the sudden switch of attitude from leader to servant. His hands were still hidden from view but he was slouching instead of standing straight like a pole.

“I ran away from my emperor,” she confided, “and my duties. I’m not happy about finding myself under another one who treats his subjects like slaves.”

“We’re not slaves.”

“Very well,” she replied, showing her palms at her sides to acknowledge that she’d hurt his feelings. “Servants, obedient worker drones, whatever suits you. I’m not good with semantics.”

“You’re mistaken,” he insisted, glaring through the large viewport behind her. “We choose to serve under Emperor Valkorion. He is wise beyond your comprehension.”

“That, I’d have to find out for myself.”

“Someday,” he snapped back, visibly hurt. “We shall see.”

Thexan left and she had no strength to get up from her comfortable seat. She had had worse conditions for a detention and she couldn’t muster the courage to fight it. Her comlink still rested in the hand she slid in her pocket. The whole ship was certainly bugged, and even through private and secure channels there was a risk the Princes would have people tracing her call. She couldn’t do that to Marr. And Essan... she still held on the hope that she could get through this by herself and not involve him.

He was on his way, Marr had told her. He may have been Sith and infamous throughout the galaxy, she knew he would drop everything in a heartbeat to come and save her. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a mournful sigh. She wished he was a better Sith so she could hate him.

Exhausted from earlier combat and everything that ensued, she felt for her twins and they seemed to be calm. She imagined they were aware that nothing was going to happen, for now. Somewhat reassured, Tayleen dozed off and slept a dreamless sleep.

 

 


	7. The Eternal Fleet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sexual harassment/assault
> 
> This sums up Tayleen's journey as a captive aboard the Eternal Fleet's flagship. I apologize for the story that is becoming Thexan-centric.

 

The Fury landed in the valley where the ground was flat and wide enough, minutes away on foot from the house. It all looked quiet, the same as the last time he had visited.

Essan jogged, then ran as he failed to see the reflection of light where windows should have been. Drapings flowed out with the wind and the furniture was toppled. Sections of walls were blasted into dust. He stormed in and called out, even though he sensed nothing through the Force.

He’d dreaded seeing a corpse by then. He knew he was too late, arriving ten days after the last contact.

His vision blurred with tears as he rummaged through the small home, looking for clues, a sign as to where she had gone. He found dead droids dismantled and destroyed, designed with heavily armored machinery with blaster rifles. In her bedroom the window was vaporized as well and he found the closet open. Her blaster was on the floor, along with nine of her ten thermal detonators.

The explosion.

He pieced the puzzle together until he noticed the absence of her emergency bag. There was a glimmer of hope. He raised his left gauntlet and took a few deep breaths while the link connected to Marr.

“They took her,” he grunted, resting a knee to the ground, as if he could feel depressions in the carpet to find foot prints. “Her bag is missing.”

“The twins,” Darth Marr replied. “That’s what saved her. We must assume they plan on using them for their dark purpose.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Essan almost shouted, running out of breath. “I will turn myself in...”

“Lord Wrath,” calmly spoke Marr. “Take a moment to think. These Knights have no interest in negotiating with us. Giving your life away would amount to nothing, and Tayleen and your children will still be lost.”

He stepped out of the house and balanced himself against a beam that hadn’t fallen after the attack. Screaming out with rage, he pulled off his mask and tossed it to the ground. And he ran a trembling hand over his face with the final thought: she was gone. He could never see her again. His children would be born and grow among strangers, enemies of the galaxy.

“Wrath,” called Marr. “Your silence concerns me.”

“I’m trying to think,” he replied, aware that his voice was now unfiltered through the comms.

“Your personal involvement is preventing you from being objective.”

“We don’t have _time_ for this!”

“ _We were out of time from the start_!”

Essan froze at the distorted sound of Marr’s voice as he had shouted. Even in the outdoors, hundreds of light years away, he felt the Sith’s power put him in place.

“Now if you will listen carefully,” Marr continued, back to his even, quiet tone, “I have a plan. But it heavily relies on Tayleen’s ability to navigate the Eternal Fleet.”

“In her condition?” he protested, seething and blowing air through his nostrils.

“Others can be fooled as well.”

“How do you know she is able to do anything?” He dreaded to imagine her being caged, or forced into a coma until her babies could be delivered.

Marr paused. “She has established contact, I believe she was allowed to keep a comlink device. We must assume it is no longer secure.”

His heart jumped. “Could she make it secure again?”

“That depends on her skills and means to achieve it.” Another pause, and Essan sighed with relief. Marr continued. “Wrath, you may have hope that Cipher Nine is back in active duty.”

“Pardon me if I don’t share your enthusiasm.” He cynically said and listened to Marr with grief.

“Your approval is unnecessary. She may well be our only chance to know more about an enemy that destroys all life in its wake.”

It was hard to imagine the vulnerable and sensitive Tayleen become a covert spy among an enemy so powerful none had lived to bear witness. It felt like yesterday when he’d carried her to Doctor Lokin, so fragile and almost unconscious. Leaving her to live on Berith was not his decision. Rare were the times when she had looked him in the eye afterwords. They had barely spoken in months, but they had agreed on names for the twins. Until ten days ago, he had stopped thinking of her as Tayleen, but as the mother of his children.

On his way back to the Fury, he kicked and nudged the head piece of a droid. Blaster holes dented its surface and optics. He needed to have faith in her.

 

* * *

 

The ink ran dry in one of her first markers and she growled, tossing it over her shoulder before uncapping the next stylus of red paint to finish drawing the line leading to the last star cluster. The triangle finished somewhere three meters above the floor, and she’d piled up a coffee table upon the lounge sofa to access that point. Despite the extra weight, this was good exercise for her, making that large map of the stars on the bay viewport. Stepping down barefooted on scattered sheets of hand-drawn star constellations and looking at her work, Tayleen shook her lekku and shut her eyes, bringing two fingers to her temples to soothe her headache. She missed three-dimensional displays.

The fleet had jumped six times in ten days. One time, the flagship had taken a rear position to the ascend of daytime on the planet they orbited and she had been able to witness the attack. Defense ships had vaporized in seconds before the invasion started. Many capsules and transporters shot out of the Eternal Fleet’s capital ships to hit the planet in several concentrated zones. She had felt intensely sad and shocked, as thousands of lives were taken and, she had read, their absence in the Force affected her children. When it was over, hours later, a part of the transports would return and the Eternal Fleet jumped to a different system. Each hyperspace transit lasted seconds.

Not days, not hours. Seconds.

And the stars changed so much between each new destination that she completely lost track of where she was in the Outer Rim. She was denied access to a datapad or a computer terminal, even though no one had come to take away her comlink. After several requests, she was allowed to use sheets of paper and flimsy plastic, stylus and erasable paint markers. The only ones who tended to her quarters were droids but they weren’t suspecting her to chart an entire map of the Outer Rim on her dining room window.

Berith sat at the bottom of her predicted itinerary and she worked her way upward, going with the assumption that they would progress closer and closer to the Core Worlds. Star clusters, nebulae and oddities such as white dwarves and quazars would align more and more accurately to her rudimentary knowledge of the galaxy.

She heard the door slide open and she turned to watch the lock on the wall behind her. It was supper time already and she hadn’t changed from the sleeping gown she’d woke up wearing. The garment was made of the softest silk and it was opalescent white and it flowed down to her ankles. She hadn’t felt like dressing up for dinner, not after ten days of isolation. The droid servant would leave her meal on a table next to the door and not make eye contact with her, immediately leaving again so as to avoid getting pinned down or attacked. Tayleen waited for the door to slide shut and stood slowly to grab the platter and set it on the dining table. She wasn’t hungry but she ate whatever she could for her twins.

Her other twins hadn’t shown ever since she was brought to the Eternal Fleet and she didn’t need to ask what they were doing. Each hyperspace jump to a different system was a grim day. Was no one else spared like she was? If she was allowed to leave the apartment for a walk in the hallways, it was only under the surveillance of a Knight guard and she hated them. They were glorified grunts with lightsaber spears and ridiculous golden plate armor. No one dared to talk to her. The only conversation she ever had was with the medical droid who came to check on her vitals every odd day.

She slowly ate her stew of vegetables and chunks of meat, missing the spicy cooking of Essan when he would drop by on Berith. She pushed around the pieces of meat and finished the rest of the food. Her stomach was upset the first four days and she hadn’t really understood why. If they were trying to drug her, she would have recognized the symptoms by now.

She placed the platter on the table near the entrance and headed for a bath. The refreshers were somptuous and the tub could hold three adults if that was even an option. It had taken her a while before indulging in this habit but her back ached too much and she had to relax for the sake of her children. Being alone was not an issue, but she was trapped and held against her will. Not only did that take away her will to enjoy herself in all of this opulence, but even if Kaliyo or Essan had been there she still wouldn’t feel at ease. After her bath she inspected herself in the mirror, and applied moisterizing cream to her face. She wouldn’t let these people of Zakuul get the best of her, and if her appearance was all the dignity she had left it would be pointless to give it up.

Going into her bedroom she changed to a clean set of clothes and only found more luxurious gowns in the closets. She slipped into a black dress that did not constrict her shapes and found that it suited her. Soon the cleaning droids would arrive to dust off the suite and she planned to ask for a supply of batteries. They didn’t need to know why.

As expected, the entrance door hissed open and she headed to find the cleaning droid. This time it didn’t make mechanical noises as it came in. She almost tripped when she saw Thexan.

Still wearing black and gold, he stood in the lobby, gazing at her work on the ceiling-high glass pane. She took careful steps to get close but not so much that he would hear her anxious pulse. He was wearing his lightsaber, but even with his back turned she didn’t risk anything.

“This is... extensive.”

Holding her breath, Tayleen looked at his contemplative face, still pale and clean-shaven, but his tunic had scuffs and burns from recent battles.

“I’m back to the stone ages here,” she criticized. “If only you would allow me to have a datapad, or access to the Holonet...”

“I will arrange it.” Blinking, he finally met her gaze. “I’m sorry you were kept in the dark. We still don’t know if we can trust you.”

She parted her lips to scoff at him, but thought better of it. “You can never tame a caged animal.”

He raised an eyebrow and clasped his hands in his back. It almost seemed like he hadn’t been ruthlessly murdering anyone just hours sooner.

“So it’s in my best interest to set you free?” His focus didn’t waver. “Wouldn’t you rather stay with us and learn everything you can for your own benefit?”

Tayleen folded her arms over her breasts and sneered at him. “Why would I fall for your coy plan to let myself be trapped?”

“Because it’s the best offer I have,” he said.

His expression was dark, and he paced away from her, stopping only to study her artwork. Tayleen had to risk at least one thing.

“I have a better offer,” she spoke out. “I will work with you on the condition that no more lives are taken.”

She expected him to lash out at her, maybe to scowl her for that demand. However, Thexan looked up at the chart, and his gaze focused on the stars infinitely further away.

“I would accept it,” he softly replied, “but I can’t stop what I’ve started.”

“You lead this fleet,” she insisted, stepping closer, feeling a head shorter than him without any footwear. Her heart pounded in her chest. “You can stop it.”

He directed his anger at her in just one sentence. “This isn’t about me.”

With that contained rage she felt deep in her core, she thought she was looking at a different side of him that didn’t feel quite... him.

“Arcann,” she breathed.

Wincing at her reply, he took a step back and folded his arms defensively. “Leave him out of this... You don’t know anything.”

“Then tell me,” she begged, trying to appear compassionate. “I’m not going anywhere and there’s nothing for me here. At least help me understand why you do this.” She took a deep breath and fought actual tears. “Why all of this destruction?”

He obviously initiated most of the operations and decided where the fleet was headed, so she couldn’t blame everything on his brother, the one with the temper. Perhaps this was all Valkorion.

“I will have you given a holo station,” he answered flatly, “so that you can learn the history of Zakuul. You might understand, then.”

“I don’t want your cheap shortcuts,” she shot at his blank face. “What man calls himself a leader if he doesn’t answer for his actions?”

His jaw locked tensely as he dug his stare into her. “The day will come for me to atone for everything, but not until this Empire can prevail and expand. The Eternal Fleet was designed for war.”

“War? You mean a symmetrical confrontation between two parties equally aware of their conflictual state?”

Tayleen could have just knocked the sense out of his thick skull and be done for the night. This conversation was going nowhere and she grew tired of scolding this man, this grown child who still crawled in his father’s shadow.

Breathing out a long sigh, Thexan looked just as weary and she didn’t find the spark of rebellion she was hoping to see in him. He looked... apathetic. She felt sorry for him.

“Do not attempt to escape,” he warned her, his voice raspy and bitter. “Your comlink has been tapped and my people will come after you and your loved ones.” He found her pile of markers on the couch, picked one of them and walked towards the eastern side of her map. “So far, I haven’t told Emperor Valkorion of your existence because unborn Force sensitive hybrids are of no interest to him.”

He paused, and started writing on the glass pane beside the symbols she’d drawn of an unknown nebulae. His Aurabesh script was impeccable. The annotations he wrote were names of star systems she didn’t know existed. Tayleen felt a knot form in her stomach.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked.

Thexan stopped editing her work and replaced the cap on the marker. He turned to look down at her belly, and she placed her hand over it out of protective instinct.

“I’ll never be like my father, and I will never live up to his expectations,” he confessed with guilt. He dropped the marker on the table and stared at his hand before closing it into a fist. “I can never stop being his executioner as long as he lives, or until he kills me.”

Tayleen could see his slightly trembling lower lip. She felt distraught, but understood how the son of an emperor would suffer feelings of inadequacies all of his life.

“You think he’s going to harm me,” she finished his thought.

Thexan sucked air through his nostrils before looking at her. “You need to survive but I can’t just release you.” He ran his forearm across his eyelids and let out a sigh. “I can’t become a traitor. We’ll need to make it look difficult.”

The genuine look of honesty on his face made her smile with unexpected joy. Tayleen let her shoulders drop and she came to sit on the couch. He took a small step aside as if to give her more air to breathe.

“I’m six months pregnant. Everything I do looks more difficult than it has to be.”

It was disconcerting to watch this young man, this enemy carry himself with shame and grief when she was only beginning to imagine his distress.

“Is your brother on board with this?” she asked.

Hesitating to answer, Thexan avoided making eye contact. “He knows I’m here, that’s all.”

“Here with me,” she said, following his implied sentence, “doing what, at this hour of the night?” Tayleen didn’t even flinch at the thought.

His shy smirk lasted a mere second. “Taking advantage of your trust is the last thing on my mind. Arcann knows this... He doesn’t share my opinion on-” he scratched an itch behind his left ear- “on this sort of thing.”

“Please,” she implored, tired of seeing him stand so rigid and uncomfortable, “take a seat. You look like you need it.”

Something had happened, somewhere, sometime in the last ten days that caused him to so easily shed his pride in her presence. When he sat opposite from her in the maroon couch, his anxious shifty eyes had trouble setting on her. Tayleen patiently stood up and moved to sit beside him, keeping a hand’s length distance. She smelled the stained fabric of his clothes that hadn’t been laundered recently. Ignoring it, she looked up at the stars and the galaxy’s bright silhouette, with her hand-drawn superimposed map. His annotations finished the predicted routed that the Eternal Fleet was going to take.

“I’m going to need supplies,” she said, changing the subject. “Batteries, for starters. And some droid parts for wireless connectors... I was going to rip apart one of your cleaners but there’s probably an easier way.”

“That won’t be a problem.” He leaned back and kept his hands on his lap. “And a data terminal, I assume?”

“I need my shows,” she explained, “I’m lost without the Holonet.”

Thexan shot a glance around them, bent forward and picked up one of the flimsy sheets that littered the carpet. “You have talent... We could have these framed and auctioned on Zakuul. Who knows, you might become a great abstract artist.”

“Ah,” she reacted sarcastically. “My long lost dream.” She took the sheet from him and idly folded it into a random shape. “So, if you’re the kind, charming one, what does that make of Arcann?”

His brow lowered, she noticed this each time she mentioned his brother. “You seem curious about him. Why?”

“I’m expecting twins,” she moved an arm on the head rest, calmly speaking. “You’ll understand why I’m curious about the two of you. I’ve read that twins share everything, they are linked and sometimes live vicariously through one another. And if you are two sides of one coin, I need to know both of them.”

“That’s generalizing it...”

“But it’s not false, is it?” Her stomach churned, and she tried to ignore it.

Hesitant, he scrutinized her face before staring at the void in front of him and brought a leg over his other knee.

“Arcann is more sensitive than I am,” he began. “He built this armor around him so that people can’t see it. And he is... impulsive. He struggles to stay in control.”

“Not like you,” she compared.

He shot a spiteful eye at her. “Your children will carry their father’s legacy, too. They need to be prepared to deal with that kind of power.”

“I’m afraid to ask how you and your brother grew up to become...” she stopped herself at loss for words to describe them.

Thexan seemed to stretch his right shoulder and ran his hand over his head, nervously raking his scalp. “We trained and learned together,” he told with a hint of nostalgia, “we fought and fell but we carried each other back on our feet. We always do.”

“That’s your military training.”

“We were four when it started,” Thexan added before locking his jaw.

Feeling herself frowning with sadness, Tayleen shifted on her seat to ease the pinching in her back, and she felt a kick.

“Shh, now, now,” she absent-mindedly said, stroking her side. And Thexan picked up on that and discretely looked at her belly. Tayleen chewed on her lower lip as she internally debated whether or not to trust him. “They’ve been grumpy these last few days. I think they’re getting tired of my worrying.”

He held on to the edge of the cushions and she could see the gears working through his skull.

“Have you chosen names yet?” he asked.

She nodded, smiling dearly. “Ceyran and Zherrys.” Gender-neutral names. She still hadn’t decided who would get which. “Essan and I came up with them, jumbling old family relatives.”

“Who is Essan?”

Her lips parted but she forgot what she was going to say. She met his steel eyes and raised brow. Cursing herself mentally, Tayleen closed her eyes and decided not to make a tragedy out of her slip of the tongue.

“Their father.”

“You don’t like talking about him.”

“Is that so?” she replied, resorting to sarcasm again. She knew she would lose if she kept pretending that she had nothing to hide. He smirked back at her but she could see a pain in his expression, something that was long buried and locked away. “He is good to me,” she continued. “Becoming separated was a mutual decision but when the children will be born we’ll have to become a family somehow.” When the time would come for their birth, she assumed she would be somewhere safe, with her loved ones. She sighed and began to stand up. “I need to empty my bladder.”

Thexan stood before her and she was halfway to her feet that he was supporting her arm and she grabbed his open hand. Their gazes met and she was too surprised to step away and re-establish a safety distance.

“Either you’re trying to be chivalrous,” she snarled, “or you really don’t want me to stain your furniture.”

“Can it be both?”

She snorted a giggle and hurried out of his grasp to get to the refreshers. Upon entering she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror to see her cheeks blushing with embarassment. When she was done she splashed water over her face, setting her mind straight.

Don’t kriffing fall in love again.

She returned to the lobby and he was standing near the door to leave. She let out another sigh and tried not to look too relieved. When she came closer she saw his sad eyes again, masked by his lowered brow of stern humility.

“What is it, Thexan?”

“I realize I’ve overstayed my welcome. I will return tomorrow but I can promise nothing.”

“You don’t want to wake suspicion,” she nodded. “I understand.”

He bit his lips and his back straightened. “I should clear the air about that... It’s not like me to spend the night and I wouldn’t want Arcann to feel singled out by our-” he hesitated before wincing- “friendship. If you ever talk to him you should keep that in mind.”

“No promises,” she quietly said. “If Arcann wants to talk to me he will have to make that first step.”

There was nothing she wanted less than having to go through a minute of Arcann trying to make conversation with her. Something about the other twin made her skin crawl. She held her arms together with discomfort.

“He’s not always bad,” Thexan apologetically told her. “He has his moments but he’s very passionate.”

“You make it sound like he’d be the perfect match for me.”

Thexan twitched his face but didn’t laugh at her satire. His voice became raspy as he murmured. “Good night, my Lady.”

His final gaze was both suspicious and benevolent, two qualities she had seen in Jedi with their self-righteous ways. Essan had been skeptical of her intentions at first, before they had even considered starting a family, but she had always felt at home in his company. It had been too much, too soon for her to be so comfortable with someone. Now she was to become a mother and twenty-six was still young to go back on her mistakes.

If she could even leave this flagship of death and destruction. Her budding affinity with her captor was a signal that she needed to set her goals straight.

She let the drapings open that night as she lied on her side in the oversized bed. The Eternal Fleet was not in view and she sleepily enjoyed watching the sparkling stars of the new galactic sector she now knew as Wild Space, as written in the perfect handscript added to her star map. Her thoughts trailed and she couldn’t shake Thexan out of her head.

*

She held the cup of warm tea under her chin, breathing in the sweat aroma of citrus and honey while staring at her star map. The Fleet had jumped again and it had woken her far sooner than she’d prefered. The constellations now matched the predicted route. It wasn’t without a certain pride that she reflected on her accomplishment; even Thexan had been impressed. But she needed to focus on her next step: establishing communication with Darth Marr.

After her morning routine of stretches and light exercising - as much as her swollen belly allowed it - she began looking around her suite for surveillance equipment. The aim wasn’t to damage or deactivate them, but to be aware of their location so as to avoid getting caught when she would build her comm relay. Thexan had better meet her halfway with the materials, she thought. If he didn’t come by that day she decided she would get angry at him.

It was the better alternative than to pine after each of his visits.

She spent the morning exploring each cabinet, every decorative item and fixture, every viewport sill and each ceiling corner. She had found one optic in the kitchen clockface, another in the lobby over the waterfountain that she had deactivated - the sound of babbling water only made her bladder problems worse - and a third in the bedroom, right above the clothes cabinets. That last one made her uneasy and she tried not to think too much upon which particularly lonely night she had indulged herself in bed. She swore that, when or if she could access the surveillance terminal, certain files would have to mysteriously disappear from the databanks.

Upon lunch time she had washed and done her cosmetics after finally using the box of paints in the refresher cabinets. Applying black liner around her eyes gave her confidence and a sense of self she hadn’t felt since her Cipher days. She wanted to use dark red on her lips to match her darkened eyes but thought better of it at the last minute.

The droid arrived with her lunch and she didn’t hear it leave right away. When she came out of the refreshers, the tray of food was on the coffee table. Tayleen lifted the lid from the tray and was surprised to see anything but food underneath.

She found the battery pack, a flimsy pouch with wireless emitters and receptors, a handful of precision tools and soldering iron. Under the plate was a portable media pad. Her smile hadn’t been this wide in very long.

The ambient light of the suite adapted its brightness to each hour, simulating daylight passing and it was dusk when she heard her stomach grumble. She had spent the day at the table, tinkering her equipment out of sight of the surveillance cameras. At dinner time the droid returned with a meal, and another box of materials: a long range antenna module that had been ripped out of a mainframe she wasn’t familiar with.

Her comlink was secure again thanks to the router she built that day. The long range antenna was still unused and she was sure it could be traced by Zakuulan Intelligence. It would stay unused until she could completely trust whoever had given it to her.

Entrenched in the privacy of the refreshers, she activated her device and let the channels link before attempting to connect to Darth Marr. If the call was being monitored it would deactivate, as per her programming, and she bit her lips waiting for it to relay between virtual ports. There was an electronic crackle and finally she heard a voice.

“Agent?” It was the lowest sound setting and yet he sounded very loud in the room of stone tiles.

“Lord Marr,” she said with a sigh. “I successfully secured this line.”

“I am impressed. Your skills never fail to deliver.”

She ignored the compliment and hurried to report. “The Eternal Fleet is moving towards the Core Worlds, my Lord. I will send you the mapped trajectory. I’ve also gathered code lines from their artificial intelligence technology that you could use against the Skytroopers... It’s fragmental but it’s something.”

“Noted. What is your status? Are you safe?”

She paused, eyes wandering around the golden faussets and embroidered towels. “I’m safe and well,” she answered. “I’m not-” The door hissed at the entrance, and she heard muffled steps.

“Agent?”

“I will contact you another day, my Lord. Cipher Nine out.”

It had been a mechanical thing to say, but not using her own name felt safest in this situation. She stowed her comlink and secure relay under the sink before leaving the bathroom. Her heart was pounding and her twins shifted inside of her.

She met the dark glare of the man she was used to seeing but who was a stranger. She had left a pile of dismantled electronics on the dining table and he was leaning over it, arms of white stretched out to rest his hands on the table as he accusingly stared down at Tayleen.

“What’s this?” muttered the brother of Thexan.

Frozen and mortified, Tayleen stood her ground and held his gaze.

“I got bored,” she flatly answered. “I like to tear things apart.”

For long seconds, his steel-blue eyes dug into her soul. Eventually he leaned away and walked around the table to move closer. His gait, his posture, his hands... all were identical to Thexan’s. She was disconcerted and disappointed that she would be left in this situation. Traitor, she thought.

“You are scheming with my brother,” Arcann scowled, still walking.

“Yes,” she said with all of the confidence she had. He was inches from her face. “I’m going to leave this place.”

His touch felt like ice when he circled his hand around her throat. His cold fingers closed in on her wind pipe and jugular but did not squeeze. It took everything she had not to show her panic fear, the gut-wrenching sickness she felt being pinned down against a wall. Her babies were twitching and kicking.

“You will do nothing,” he hissed at her, blowing a warm breath on her face. He smelled of fire, sweat and a strange cologne she did not care to identify. “You are a spy, Cipher Nine. Your friends will all die trying to save you.” He smelled her, taking a deep breath. “Your children will never get to know you.”

He knew her code name. Traitor, she repeated to herself, internally furious with rage at herself, and at Thexan. She gulped down her self-pity, feeling the extra pressure on her neck as she did so. Reaching up, she slowly ran her left hand over his, cautious to let him feel the heat under her palm. His pupils widened and he released her as she gently pushed his hand away.

She tried to remember what Thexan had said.

“I’m starting to understand how my brother let you fool him,” he growled.

“This has nothing to do with your brother.” She was stalling, trying her best not to let panic take over.

“One way or the other,” he retorted, “you will do anything to get what you want. Won’t you?”

Her breath was interrupted as she felt Arcann’s face almost touching hers, going for her mouth. What the kriff-? She thought of her babies, and she thought of the lightsaber he carried and the unknown Force powers he could use against her.

Shutting her eyes tightly, and to her own dismay she let him kiss her. Tayleen was crying inside and she couldn’t hide her repulsion and the utter shock she was going into.

But of course it didn’t stop there. His hand returned to her throat while the other stroked her body. She still wore that black dress from the other day. She whimpered under his pressing touches and tears rolled down her face. It was too much. This wasn’t her.

The strength came out of nowhere when she pushed him away, leaving him staggering in the middle of the dining room, almost knocking down a couple of chairs. His face was reddened from pressing so hard on her mouth, and she tried not to shout at him...

But she shouted. “You will not touch me again!”

Arcann gave her a murderous look and his left hand raised between them, and then she felt her throat lock.

“Arcann!”

The release made her gasp and fall to her knees. Bringing her own hands to her neck she turned to see a black figure at the entrance. Arcann stared at his brother with a crazed expression. He seethed as Thexan moved closer, cautious at every step.

“Betrayed,” Arcann hissed, “by my own brother.”

His hand came down to his belt, touching the hilt of his weapon. Thexan acknowledged it with a simple glance, now close enough to see Tayleen. His eyes looked even more sad than the night before.

“I’m here, Arcann.”

“You were going to let this whore escape?”

He waited but Thexan said nothing. There was a long exchange of silence between the two of them, then Arcann blinked a few times. His shoulders dropped. Thexan tightened his jaw as he looked back at Tayleen.

“Leave her be,” he said.

“She is a spy-”

“I know.” He went over to her and helped her up, pulling her by the hands. “But she is my friend. She is our friend.”

“You make no sense.”

Thexan turned a cold, blank stare at his brother. “We needed enemy intelligence and here she is, ready to work with us... If you would only leave her be.”

Arcann laid his eyes upon her again and she fought not to look away. “Fine, then. Have your little fun with her.”

The air was heavy when he left the apartment and when the door hissed closed, Tayleen let out a cry of anguish, giving everything she had not to let her knees give out from under her.

“I’m sorry,” Thexan murmured.

Teeth cringing, she couldn’t stomach seeing his face. Even though he was imploring her with his eyes, she slapped him across the cheek. Thexan took the hit and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. She didn’t know what could have happened had he not intervened. Still, she was consumed with hatred and she could no longer focus her thoughts on the more urgent matter.

Thexan still looked away even though she was seething and ready to throw all of her scorn at him. He knew, she thought, that his face reminded her of Arcann. He was carrying his brother’s mistakes.

She isolated herself in the bedroom, letting tears flow and her anger seemed to lower after a while. She wanted Marr and Essan to take her away from this wretched situation. Spending even one more day among these people felt like a nightmare.

The next morning, she woke in bed, not remembering pulling the covers over her. Her head was aching madly. She woddled out to see the dining room table completely cleaned up and there was a pot of tea on a silver tray. She could still feel the ghost pain of having her throat caught in a grasp. She could still taste the vile saliva from Arcann’s mouth.

She rushed to the refreshers and knelt down over the toilet bowl to let out a painful gag, coughing and hurling. It had happened, she thought with bitter regret. Washing up, she cleaned her tear-stained face and she brushed her teeth for longer than necessary before heading back to bed.

Hunger tore her out of a bad dream. She shook her mind awake and realized she hadn’t eaten in over twenty hours. Even if her children weren’t yet able to complain about it, it was her primal duty to care for herself in order to care for them.

Sitting at the table, she munched on a sandwich, eyes lost in the void as she tried her hardest to forget where she was. She thought of Dromund Kaas, the Imperial Fleet, her house on Berith. She thought of the Phantom and Lokin and Kaliyo and Vector who all had begged her to be careful. She longed to see Essan again, she missed his mask and hearing his voice. He had never hurt her, not even accidentally.

Her eyes fell on the refresher door and she remembered about Darth Marr and her comlink. He was probably worried sick by now. She pushed back her doubts and insecurities and went on to send him an encrypted file that compiled everything she’d gathered about the Eternal Empire. It didn’t matter if Arcann could monitor her communications. It didn’t matter if she broke Thexan’s trust.

They needed to be defeated by her people. She could figure out how to survive another day.

*

The comlink’s chime tore her from the bed the next day. The encryption prevented from identifying the caller and she had trouble coming up with a reply phrase.

“Hello?” she said, her voice raspy from slumber.

The raspy voice on the other end sent her chills.

“It’s Thexan. Could we meet in the gardens in an hour?”

She sighed loudly so as to express her irritability. “Do I have a choice?”

He paused before replying. “I could come to you but... not after what happened. If it’s any trouble for you to leave the apartment-”

“No,” she interrupted, “I could use a walk.”

That day she changed into a pair of comfortable leggings and flat slippers from her duffle bag, and threw on her jacket before leaving the suite. A Knight silently walked with her towards the gardens. The northern wing was wider than the central halls, with a warmer climate control setting, brighter lighting and even simulated bird song. The plants there were tall and lush with a fountain system imbedded in the pond that ran along the bay view. Tayleen wished she had spent more time there, under different circumstances.

He was sitting on a bench looking at the artificial waterfall, and stood as she arrived. Tayleen did not acknowledge his bow of the head, and directly sat on the other end of the bench.

“I’m glad you came,” started Thexan.

“Spare me,” she said after a sigh and he took his place back on the seat. “What do you want?”

It had been two days and still it was hard for her to look upon his face.

“To keep you posted on our advancement.” He paused, looking at the tip of his boots. “Our intelligence services provided key locations for us to attack. We’re headed to the Core Worlds.”

She raised a concerned eyebrow, studying his distant, emotionally stunted face. He returned her gaze.

“Korriban.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she could only whisper.

Thexan seemed to take interest in her hands as she had placed them over her belly.

“You should warn your family. Keep them safe.” He stopped as she gaped, baffled at the news. “I have to watch out for my brother.”

“Your brother...” She couldn’t believe her ears. Her hatred for Arcann only grew at every mention of him. “You could stop all of this, start the negotiations and put an end to this madness.”

She could feel her hands getting cold as fear crept up in her mind. He stretched out his fingers before forming fists upon his lap.

“That isn’t my purpose,” he softly replied. “My betrayal would only result in more death, and my brother is in danger. I know this. I can see it.”

His fists were shaking slightly.

“How do you know that?” Tayleen spoke, interrupting the growing rage inside of him.

Thexan closed his eyelids and a tear slid down his face. His back heaved and he answered even more quietly.

“It started when we were very young. Our father looked to our training and made us strong through constant challenges. We fought together to achieve his tasks. We conquered worlds and brought resources for Zakuul and the Empire. We fought Jedi Masters and Sith lords.”

“We are still waiting for his approval. Decades went by and it’s taking a toll on us. Arcann no longer speaks of him but I know he wants him dead. He-”

Suddenly stopping, he raised a heavily troubled stare towards the hallway. Tayleen looked but there was no one. Her twins moved and she was scared they would hurt each other if they started kicking. She rubbed her abdomen and worriedly looked back at Thexan.

“Please go on,” she said, hoping he would ignore her.

“I’m causing you distress.”

“I’m fine. It’s the twins...” She hesitated, but she knew that her anxiety faded when she spoke about them. “They don’t understand why there is so much trouble. They can’t talk, you know?”

Thexan nervously nodded, looking at a loss. “I know. How-... how can I help?”

Tayleen frowned and looked at him with a confusion of pity and helplessness.

“Think positive thoughts. Remember any happy events from your past?”

Biting his lips, he nodded.

“Good,” she sighed, and pushed on the bench to sit straighter. “Focus on that.”

The tension on his forehead seemed to ease and his jaw muscles relaxed. Tayleen reached for his arm and brought his hand over her belly, ignoring her suspicions and her primal fear of being assaulted.

The twins froze for a moment, alerted by the new contact they sensed. Thexan’s face was that of an amazed child as he appeared to become aware of the two lives inside of her. His fingers spread and he slid his hand around slightly, as if scanning for each of them. He smiled happily and met her eyes. Tayleen felt at peace again, even if it was a fleeting moment.

“They’re strong with the Force,” he murmured.

“They also want to be left alone,” she corrected, and pressed her hand over his to catch his attention. “Like you and Arcann should have been left alone when you were children.”

She expected him to remove his hand but he intently stared at her belly before closing his eyes for a few seconds. Serenity came over him and he finally pulled away, taking a deep breath.

“Arcann is in danger,” he resumed telling, “because I think father wants him dead, too.”

It did not surprise her one bit. Arcann had tried to force himself upon her. He had control issues, anger issues, and a whole lot of personality defects she wasn’t curious to discover. He was unreliable as a ruler.

“I’m not eager to meet your father,” she said, trying to relieve the tension.

Thexan’s eyes had taken a shine and he smiled to conceal his sadness.

“I wouldn’t dare to have you in his presence only for a second,” he whispered, his voice too raspy to speak on an even tone.

Her heart broke at the thought of growing up with a tyrant for a father. He and his brother had known nothing but abuse and, apparently, constant withdrawal.

“What about your mother?” she asked, deviating the subject.

“My mother,” he repeated with a mix of longing and bitterness. “She abandonned us a long time ago.”

“How so?” she kept asking, swallowing the cold knot in her throat. Things just didn’t get any better.

“She... was angry at Valkorion. The way he treated our sister. Yes, we have a younger sister, Vaylin. Her powers threatened him so he put mental restrains on her.” Resting on his knees he slowly wiped both sides of his face. “She’s even more unstable than Arcann. They both believe mother abandonned us because she felt ashamed... I believe she was cast away.”

Tayleen looked at the grown man silently sobbing for a while, hiding his grief as best as he could but she couldn’t bring herself to forgive him for her own position in this setting. Yes, she felt bad for him, having to carry the weight of his family’s shortcomings. Yes, she believed he was doing the best he could, all things considered. But was it her punishment to see him walk the same destructive path? Did she really need to pay by becoming Arcann’s plaything?

“You should leave,” she suggested tentatively. “Take a shuttle and just leave it all behind.”

Hands joined in front of his mouth, he looked at her with that melancholic smirk that melted her heart.

“I couldn’t run for the rest of my life. My place is here, with my brother. He needs me.”

“I wish things didn’t go the way they did,” she said to him, not without regret. “When he came to visit me. If you hadn’t intervened...”

He leaned back and took a nervous breath, folding his arms tightly against his chest.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

No one had attempted to assault her that way before in her life. She was still shaken every time she remembered it. “It will be hard to forget. I was hoping he would be more like you, but... You are two different people. I know that, now.”

“I couldn’t forgive myself for letting him near you,” Thexan said with scorn in his voice. “It’s my fault, I was careless.”

“It was his action and his decision, Thexan. You weren’t supposed to know what he was up to.”

He shook his head. “That night,” he added, eyes lowered on a point near the ground, “I had been pondering to invite you over for dinner. After all, that day I had searched for the items you needed, and thought you would enjoy my company.” He interrupted himself and scratched the back of his head. “When I finally built up the courage to ask you, I felt something was different. Then I noticed Arcann was not in his room.”

Becoming teary-eyed, Tayleen reached for him again and he flinched, shifting away from her.

“I’m-” she stammered. What could she say anyway? This wasn’t her fault. He wasn’t the one who was nearly raped. “Thexan...”

He only had one friend in his life, and she had put a wedge between them. Tayleen kept her hands to herself and looked down in what she hoped would appear as humility.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your quarters?”

She nodded, and he held out his half-gloved hand. She accepted his help and heaved herself up to her feet. Her legs had grown numb. She tried to hold on to his hand for as long as possible.

And it felt warm and rough to the touch from decades of combat training. They began walking slowly back into the dark and silent hallways. To the Knights guarding the floor, it appeared as if he was simply helping steady her when her back was aching from the pregnancy.

When taking the last turn across towards her suite, she released her fingers at the sight of the Knight near her door. Thexan sucked in a breath as they both realized they had held hands the entire way.

It doesn’t mean anything, she told herself vehemently. She fought with every fiber of her being to prevent her impulses, and she grieved for him. She felt from the bottom of her heart that he didn’t belong there any more than she did. The quiet, dark stare of the guard made it impossible for her to express how much she needed Thexan to wake up from this nightmare. She needed him to act, and fast.

Tayleen walked the last paces to her apartment and gave one last look over her shoulder to meet the gaze of the man who had her life in his hands. His face looked tired, so close to giving up.

She trusted Thexan, she had no other choice.

 

* * *


	8. Hoth

 

 

Anoat Sector.

The ice air crystallized over the entire surface of the speeder’s viewport. Quinn spent five minutes scraping off the window panes since they arrived at the Thesh Outpost bunker.

Essan kicked open his door, stuck closed by the cold climate, cursing at himself for likely damaging his vehicle. He stood out holding his left shoulder, wincing and staggering towards the elevator.

“We went through waves of over-zealous Skytroopers and returned alive,” he tiredly commented at Quinn. “Your concern for this vehicle baffles me.”

He looked back at Essan with an annoyed glance. “We’ve yet to encounter a mechanical failure in this journey when our odds are at their lowest, my Lord.”

They were lowered down in the depths of the icy cave that was Thesh. Essan was scraped by shrapnel during the explosion of a downed Zakuulan transporter, and a single piece of dressing with kolto wouldn’t suffice to treat his injury.

The Chiss personnel took him to the infirmary and he was too tired to acknowledge the memories of that medic who had troubled Tayleen. It seemed like years since he’d thought of that day. They kindly removed part of his armor and clothing, accustomed to assisting troops on the field with minimal preparation. Conserving his mask, he couldn’t look at Quinn to silently move his attention elsewhere.

“My Lord,” said the Captain.

“What is it,” he sighed back.

“I fear your gauntlet has been damaged during the fight. There may have been missed communications in the mean time.”

Essan turned his wrist around to see scuffs and dents to the plating, along with the piece of electronic imbedded to the armor.

“They would have contacted you in that case,” he replied, referring to Marr’s intelligence team.

A month had gone by since Tayleen was taken from Berith. She’d managed to secure a comlink to talk to Darth Marr, providing vital intel on Zakuul and the Eternal Fleet. The scraps of coding she sent helped find cracks in the Skytrooper’s tactical maneuvers.

“I’ve compiled the reports from this past week of scouting and I’m ready to submit them,” Quinn said, pulling up his datapad. “Unless you have more data to contribute.”

“Did you mention the construction materials?”

“I was going to lead with that.”

Essan nodded and bit his lips at the intra-muscular kolto injection he received.

“All set, my Lord.” The Chiss medic gathered her supplies and tools and left the room. Quinn waited for the door to close.

“You haven’t sent word for news of Cipher Nine in a long time. Along with that observation, I noticed you’ve become more reckless in combat. This sort of injury wouldn’t have occurred in the past.”

Pulling up his armor padding and reattaching his clothes around the bandage was trouble enough, Essan didn’t need to justify himself to Quinn.

“It’s been a month, and we know she is being treated well. She needs to lay low and my constant check-ins can’t help that.”

Quinn raised a dark eyebrow and stowed his datapad to his back pouch before moving the tray table away for Essan to get off the medical cot.

“If the Eternal Fleet is progressing towards the Core Worlds, it means their strategy is expediting. There is much reason to worry, my Lord.”

They stepped out to the Thesh central command. Personnel were busy taking in wounded troops, or body bags. Ships were all sent out and most had crashed. The attack on Hoth hadn’t spared many.

“We must return to Headquarters,” Quinn insisted. “Avoiding bad news is only worsening what’s to come.”

“I know that, Quinn.” Essan took a breath, feeling his lungs hissing and he tried not to cough. “My comlink is still online on the Fury.”

He was nagged by the intuition that something was brooding on Hoth, and the supply crates of Zakuulan materials they had found suggested that the enemy was preparing something. He just didn’t know what or why.

There had been early constructions in remote systems, namely Wild Space sectors, where Zakuulan techs were exploiting natural resources. Isotope-5 had caught the attention of everyone and that was their primary source of energy, boosting their war droids and hyperdrive technology.

It explained how the Eternal Fleet traveled so fast across the Outer Rim and he was running out of time once again.

The cold stung at him through the cracks in his suit as they went back to the speeder. The door was being fixed by droid mechs and it jammed back in its grooves once anti-gel was applied.

Quinn remained silent as they boarded the speeder and got ready to leave. Essan’s teeth were hurting, much less from the cold or the recent combat than from grinding and hoping no more bad news would hit him.

Back in the white deserts of Hoth, they flew towards Dorn Base. It was daylight - noon - and the sun was so distant its rays couldn’t pierce the ever gray skies to shed some warmth on the icy planet. Quinn’s head bobbed as he slept, arms folded tightly over his safety harness. Minding the slumps on the frozen path, Essan veered from right to left and slowed when something caught his attention on the plateau leading south-west. It wasn’t something but someone. The Force tugged at him.

Slowing the vehicle, he heard Quinn let out a cough before waking up. Essan stopped and opened his door to step down.

“We haven’t reached Leth Outpost yet,” remarked Quinn.

The icy snow cracked under his boots. Essan grabbed his lightsaber and heard Quinn arm his blaster. There was a dip in the snow no farther than twenty meters ahead of the speeder.

“Mines,” Quinn warned him. “They weren’t here this morning.”

“Watch your step.”

Essan returned to the vehicle, feeling a painful blockage in his chest that triggered his coughing. He could deal with that later. He used the onboard comms to signal out to Leth Outpost.

“This is scout team Alpha, come in Leth command.”

The click was followed by static, but no response. Essan tried again with the same result. Standing ahead watching for movement, Quinn was squinting so much his eyes were mostly snow stuck on his eyelids.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

He did, too. Essan got back inside the vehicle and used the computer to contact the Fury. Quinn began walking back as well.

“This is Vette, what’s going on?”

He felt relieved at the sound of the young woman’s voice. “My comlink broke. Any news?”

“Nothing, my Lord. Just waiting here, where the air conditioning works.”

Quinn smiled as he rubbed his hands together in his seat.

“We’re going to stay a little longer,” Essan told. “Could you get General Kalart on this line?”

“Right away!”

He ignored Quinn’s disapproving frown as he waited for the connection to establish. When the Imperial General’s voice sounded, he felt another call through the Force.

“This is General Kalart,” said the crisp, eager tone of the officer. “What is your status, my Lord?”

“Leth Outpost has been compromised. Advise your troops. There are mines on the road.”

“Acknowledged, sir. I will notify all personnel at once. Have you made contact?”

He saw Quinn pulling out his datapad again, displaying the local map. Red dots started flashing up.

“We’re just getting introduced,” Essan told the General before pushing the door open again.

Skytroopers appeared from under the snow, having been buried and hidden the whole time.

“The storm from last night,” Quinn urgently said, arming his weapon and using the speeder for cover as he took aim. “They must have remotely called for the mine drop.

Essan ignited his lightsaber and took point. They didn’t need to have their speeder damaged. His red blade whirled and batted off energy bolts flying his way. This wasn’t what the Force was trying to warn him about. He called to it and tossed his power across the mine field to project the explosives towards the droids. The mines weren’t designed to trigger on flying impact but his extra push made them explode in mid-air, fragmenting the Skytroopers before they had a chance to escape, half-buried in the ice.

“How did we not detect them earlier?” he asked Quinn, going around the speeder with his lightsaber still on.

“Many possible explanations, sir. I think it was because we were busy fighting off the last waves of Skytroopers coming from Thesh Outpost.”

The computer was live inside the speeder. Essan waved for the door but it jammed again. He gave it a light punch of his fist and it cracked open. He grabbed the remote controller for the comlink and brought it up to his mask, preferring to stay out of the vehicle in order to watch his surroundings.

“This is Skordus.”

“My Lord we have a problem,” pressingly replied Vette. “Dorn Base is under attack! Skytroopers are coming from everywhere and I can’t get a hold of General Kalart.”

“Begin take off procedure,” he commanded. “Man the guns and meet us at our location for extraction.”

“Copy!”

“My Lord,” called Quinn, holding his datapad up. “Enemy approaching.”

The Captain tossed the device over his shoulder to aim his gun at a moving target coming from the south. Its golden plate armor cut visibly amidst the white snow as he climbed up the plateau’s ridge.

Essan took a deep breath and winced at the pain in his ribcage. The Knight was slow to move, his midsection still beneath the snow level, and when he took noticed of them he slouched down and suddenly...

He was over Essan, golden laser blade shrieking in the air as he went for a leaping strike at him. Essan braced his knees and back to parry. The clash was charged with Force power, sending a wave of conflagration, toppling the speeder and knocking Quinn off his feet. They fenced and failed to counter their defenses. As they locked weapons, Essan sent his left arm forward and the Force projected the Knight back towards the edge. He fought back and his lightsaber flew out of his black-gloved hand. With a grunt of rage, Essan knocked it away with his red blade, rushing in and prepared to strike the unarmed Knight of Zakuul.

There was a crackle of energy and a paralyzing shot hit the soldier, sending him in a bought of electrically-induced spasms. Stopping his hand just above his head, Essan turned to see Quinn lowering his blaster, approaching cautiously.

The air filled with the deafening sound of starship engines and a large shadow loomed over them.

“We can use him,” Quinn spoke loudly over the noise of the Fury.

Pierce appeared on the lowered ramp of the ship, his blaster rifle at the ready. Essan looked down at their enemy and touched his head to render him unconscious, stopping the static energy from doing any more damage to his nervous system.

“Gotta get going now, sir!” Pierce shouted.

*

“Why do we need this trash onboard?”

Essan locked the medical room after having fastened their prisoner to the bed. He looked back at Pierce and tried not to let his lungs constrict a cough. It was awkward enough to feel sick behind a mask, but to have to watch a Sith lord coughing or sneezing was even worse.

“We’re taking him to Darth Marr.” He headed to the cockpit and joined Vette at the commands. The Fury was ascending in the atmosphere at full speed.

“Oh, I see how it is,” commented the Lieutenant. “They got one of ours, we take one of theirs. I hope you stuck a sock down his mouth to keep him from swallowing his tongue.”

He activated the comms console and tried to reach Kalart. Vette looked from the copilot’s seat and shook her blue lekku.

“It’s bad, my Lord.”

“The Zakuul troops initiated a plan B,” Quinn explained, watching his scanning monitors. “Dorn Base has evacuated its essential personnel while the defenses are suffering heavy losses.”

“These bastards can’t slow the _kriff_ down,” commented Pierce, arms crossed and leaning in the door way.

The gray skies turned blue before going completely black and the stars sparkled throughout the whole canopy. A handful of Zakuul ships still hung in space.

“Reroute the energy to the shields,” Essan told, punching in the hyperdrive engine.

“Shields loaded,” announced Quinn, raising a worried eyebrow at the port side of the space in front of them.

“Ready to jump,” Vette said, pushing the throttle lever and maneuvering to avoid detection from the war ships. “Boy, I hope they’re too busy invading Hoth to see us coming.”

Essan stood up, catching the ceiling handle to stay in balance. He coughed as he took a deep breath.

“Stay low on orbit,” he rasped, “we don’t want their full attention yet.”

He was activating an open channel on the console when a flash caught his attention.

“Incoming transmission,” Quinn said. “Unknown origin, sir.”

He laughed to himself. They had had the same idea as him.

“Put it on the central terminal,” he said before going to the lobby.

Walking with a long series of coughs, he cleared his voice and tried not to spit in his mask. He mentally summoned his wits to prepare a threatening discharge of curses.

The hologram frizzled and took shape in a small figure. The image took his breath away.

“Essan!”

Leaning forward on the edge of the table, he almost reached out to touch her. She was kneeling with her legs to her side and her face looked strained.

“Tayleen,” he replied in shock.

“Listen to me because I don’t have much time,” she said in a deep, stern voice. “The Fleet is heading for Korriban. Do not go there. I repeat: avoid Korriban at all costs.”

Shaken by her alarmed state, he struggled to stay in the now. A hundred questions spouted in his head.

“I’m on Hoth,” he told her. “We have Zakuul troops still attacking.”

“Oh, Essan,” she cried, “please be careful. I’m going to be okay but you need to stay away from Korriban and Dromund Kaas. The Princes are killing every Sith and Jedi. They can’t be stopped.”

“Who are they and what do they want?”

“My Lord!”

He ignored Quinn’s call and leaned forward. Tayleen wiped her wet face and she was trying not to sob.

“I can’t explain it to you right now,” she answered.

“We must make the jump to light speed,” Quinn said, barging in the transmission field. “Lady Tayleen...”

“Go, Essan.”

She cut off the feed and void replaced her image. The whole ship shuddered as it took enemy fire.

“A few more hits and we’re blasted,” continued Quinn.

“Make the jump,” he ordered. “We’ll reach Marr once we’re safe.”

With a single nod, Quinn returned to the cockpit.

He felt the jump as he clung to the console and waited for the ship to steady its course before heading back to the medbay. The Knight there was awake, and his bruised face focused on Essan for a second before he looked back at the ceiling. He was a pale-skinned human, black hair cropped short and he bore a few scars across his brow, nose and chin.

“I will die before you can get answers from me,” he spoke in an accent Essan couldn’t quite identify.

“So die, then,” he hissed. “That’ll add coward to the list of known traits for the people of Zakuul.”

“You defeated me,” the man scornfully said, “humiliated me, took my weapon. Living only stains my name and accomplishments.”

“Don’t you also take prisoners?”

His face crunched up in a grimace. “We freeze the most worthy trophies into carbonite, and keep them in the Emperor’s trophy room for eternity. All else must die.”

Trophies? Carbonite? It didn’t make sense.

“Where is this trophy room?”

“On Zakuul. In the Spire.”

Still jumbling with the pieces of the puzzle, Essan fought not to let his anger take over.

“And here I thought I wouldn’t get anything from you.” He paused to watch the Knight shed his pride in silence. “Who are the Princes?”

The dark eyes widened in fear, caught by surprise at his question.

“If you’ve heard of them and lived, you still haven’t met them.”

“Then what is their purpose?”

The Knight smiled wickedly and a low grumble of a laugh rose from his throat.

“You will find out soon enough, Sith. Now... End this.”

He felt tired, lost and desperate to find the mother of his children. Seeing her again only revived his motive and his will to fight. Essan wanted to kill that man who had nothing to lose. He had no life to come back to, no loved ones. Not even his emperor cared.

Locking the room after him, he heard the shouting and insults of the Zakuulan man. There would be no needless death, not until he got all the answers he needed.

“Anything good?” asked Pierce, sharpening his vibroknife with a stone.

“We need to find these Princes. What do we have so far?”

Quinn coughed and cleared his throat, scrolling down a file in his datapad. “So far, only fragmented evidence of their work. They’re twin brothers, apparently. See this surveillance footage just outside of Belsavis’ spaceport.”

Essan took the pad from Quinn’s outstretched hand and watched a video of a fight between a Jedi, a Sith, and two human males in black and white outfits. Their golden lightsabers were a dead giveaway. Twins. A knot formed in his stomach. They fought without fear or rage, calculated each strike and sweep with deadly precision. Their opponents lasted mere minutes. Neither Jedi nor Sith were coordinated enough to pose a threat to these Princes of Zakuul.

“How do we know they’re not just droids?” said Pierce, skeptical.

“Because they’re Force users,” Essan replied dryly.

“They move like machines, though. Not an ounce of emotion on those pretty faces.”

“We have to stop them...”

“But, my Lord,” intervened Quinn. “Lady Tayleen did warn you about them. She mentioned Korriban...”

“If she’s with them, that’s where she is now,” Vette eagerly said. “Since when did we ever take the cautious route?”

He gave back Quinn’s datapad and clasped his hands in his back, trying to retain a semblance of control of his authority.

“We would be facing the whole of the Eternal Fleet,” he countered.

“But we have friends on Korriban. Okay, lots of enemies, too, though shouldn’t we be prepared to rally against these Zakuul jerks?”

He smiled behind his mask. Pierce shook his head, pessimistic.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d refer with Darth Marr on this one. Your lady said she would be fine, yeah? So why not sit this one out, wait for the dust to settle and then pick those Princes apart.”

“Whether we do or not, lives will be lost,” Essan concluded. “We rally in Wild Space and prepare to retaliate on Zakuul when it’s still defenseless.”

“That we know of,” Quinn said cynically. He rubbed a finger across his forehead. “I know some of us are impatient to rescue Cipher Nine, but that is exactly what the enemy expects. They’ve identified us on Hoth, word will spread and we won’t have enough momentum for a surprise attack.”

Essan nodded. “We agree, then. We head back to Wild Space.”

*

The jump out of hyperspace allowed the Fury to receive galactic-ranged transmissions. The automatic Imperial relay systems blasted their comms with a sea of mayday’s, distress beacons and urgent status reports coming from Korriban’s orbital defense station. They learned that all warships at the Imperial Fleet had been scrambled, leaving only a skeletal number to keep Dromund Kaas in relative safety. The cockpit was drowned in panicked voices. Essan turned the volume down until the mute mode was on.

“Thanks,” Vette sighed, leaning on her elbow. “Couldn’t stomach more of all this.”

Quinn was studying his written reports from Korriban and his face was tainted with grief.

“They’re all dead. The planet is evacuating.”

Silence weighed on the ship as it flew towards orbit. Pierce was the first to break it with a spew of slurs.

“Those bantha-eating, womprat-sucking, rakghoul-breeding...”

“That’s plenty, Lieutenant,” Essan interrupted, hitting the comms to contact Darth Marr. “This is Darth Skordus, reporting in.”

The miniature holo made Marr appear as a doll-sized Sith on his console. He turned towards the holo emitter as if busy with urgent matters. There was a lot to be occupied with.

“Wrath, the news from Korriban are setting us back centuries in the past,” he said with grim defeat. “The Dark Council is virtually no more. The Sith Academy has turned to dust.”

“I’m aware of the situation, Lord Marr. I’ve decided to retreat to Wild Space in hopes of rallying against Zakuul itself.”

The Sith in red processed his announcement and nodded slowly. “Abandoning our bastions would have earned you a death sentence for treason, but in these times, unorthodox measures are the only route left.”

Essan crossed his arms. “Cipher Nine contacted me before reaching Korriban.”

“She has notified me as well. But the last status report tells me the Eternal Fleet has already left Korriban. We have no further details.” He turned to listen to something out of audible range of the holotransmitter. “We will gather our last effort to Wild Space and face this enemy head-on. Whatever it takes, this assault to the heart of our Empire will not go unpunished.”

The holo faded. Essan turned away from the viewport and headed to his quarters.

Removing his mask felt like a liberation and he allowed himself to cough out everything he could, thinking it would clear his lungs any faster. He spat into the sink and rinsed his fevered face. He was left with a soar throat and pain in his thorax. It wasn’t like him to fall ill due to harsh climates. Opening his medicine cabinet he took a couple of blood-thinners to relieve the fever. The infection would go away after the anti-biotic treatment took effect. He sat at his desk and dislodged the comlink from his broken gauntlet. The casing was cracked and part of the circuits got fried. It would take at least a half hour to fix it but it had to be done.

He didn’t believe in Marr’s retaliation plan. He didn’t want more lives to needlessly die at the hands of this empire, this insanity coming out of nowhere. Activating his computer terminal, he launched his long-range communicator to try and contact Vector Hyllus. Only the audio was activated so that he wouldn’t see him tinkering without his mask on.

“Vector, this is Darth Skordus,” he said, juggling a pair of tweezers and a tiny soldering iron. He held the solder between his teeth. “Status?”

“It’s good to hear your voice, sir. We are well, and joining Darth Marr’s fleet.” He paused. “It’s a sad day for the Empire.”

“Discovered anything from Tayleen’s transmissions?”

“We are aware that she is living in comfortable quarters and free to roam the flagship. In our last gyroscopic analysis of her vitals, we’ve come to the conclusion that she has not been harmed.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Perhaps, Lord Wrath, you would have more information that we lack.”

“Yes,” he dropped the solder and used the Force to slide a canister of water over to him, and drank to rehydrate his throat. “A Knight told me about _worthy prisoners_ taken as trophies and frozen into carbonite were brought to Zakuul, to fill the Emperor’s collection.”

“That is intriguing. And such a detail means that not all lords on Korriban have been killed.”

“If we assume that they had extra time to capture any of them. Their assault lasted merely three days.”

He enclosed a new round casing over his newly repaired electronics. Switching it online, he began synchronizing the comlink to his ship’s computer.

“If we may be so bold,” kindly said Vector, “would it be possible that Cipher Nine was taken there as well because of the children she carries?”

“It would be the most logical outcome.” Essan stared at his computer screen, searching for answers that weren’t possibly anywhere in his reach. “How long until Marr’s fleet arrives to my location?”

“Approximately three days, sir. Should we inform the Dark Councilor of the information you’ve uncovered?”

“Please do.” He stood and mounted the comlink into his gauntlet. “We may need to put together a squad and finally start a rescue mission.”

 

* * *

 

Korriban had never appeared in such a pitiful state. Destroyers crashed on its surface after an unending agony. Bombs crippled the cities and spaceports. The deaths of thousands upon thousands sent chills through her being as she stood, numb with grief, watching the whole cataclysm unfold. Having spared her loved ones did nothing to alleviate the guilt she felt.

Tayleen walked back to the gardens while a Zakuul Knight stood watch. She sat in the same spot as three days before. The waterfall babbled soothingly against rocks and pebbles to oxygenate the pool of exotic fish below. It was only fair that she should witness these tragedies when she had originally planned to hide in exile for the whole of her pregnancy.

She felt a jump, and the stars turned to white streaks of light outside the viewport. She caught herself wondering about gravity failure and what would happen to the fish then. Zakuulan technology could afford such expenses. It seemed nothing was out of their reach.

The Fleet came out of hyperspace and she noticed the typical sparse star field of Wild Space. The system had a large green planet with two moons. She stood to walk closer to the viewport and saw the illuminated patterns of huge cities on that planet. The orbit was full of ships of Zakuulan design, all stationary in orderly fashion.

It was Zakuul. Tayleen didn’t feel her chin drop. It was finally over. The killing had stopped.

She returned to her suite and put on the pair of boots she was wearing three weeks ago. Nausea made her halt her preparations and she tried to calm herself with mints and stomach medicine. Her twins were physically reacting to her stress and she didn’t want to make it worse. This was the capital world of the Eternal Empire and she needed to escape and soon. Meeting Emperor Valkorion was not an option.

If she even managed to leave the fleet, where would she go? She hadn’t seen any non-humans among the fighting Zakuulans and even if she could pass for an orange-skinned humanoid, her lekku still gave her away as an alien. A foreigner. That wasn’t taking into account her Force-sensitive babies, attracting every Knight’s attention.

She waited with her bag at her feet, sitting at the dining table. It wasn’t lunch time yet but she had saved protein bars in her jacket. Her secure comlink was sown into the lining of the jacket so that she wouldn’t risk leaving it behind.

Outside the marker-stained viewport, she saw the wide curb of Zakuul hanging below, with its labyrinth of ships, freighters, stations... And one spherical structure hung in the middle of it. It wasn’t big, but it was transparent and it was suspended there by a shaft that seemed to reach the surface.

She startled as her door hissed open and footsteps approached. Two Knights walked in and escorted her out. Tayleen knew what was happening so she didn’t bother asking. They walked, and walked and she felt ill again. They boarded a shuttle and she was unable to see where they were headed. Once the trip was over, she was made to step out into an umbilical much like the first one she’d taken to board the flagship. This time, she saw the wide spherical structure through the transparisteel canopy. It was dark, strange, and-

“ _Oh_!” She almost fell to her knees under the sudden kick, immediately followed by a cramp.

The Knights stopped and awkwardly tried to pull her up. Tayleen felt herself tear up and collapse under a second spasm. She cried again and, in panic, took a fetal position on the cold floor to protect her belly. Imploring for her babies to stop, she didn’t know if it was intentional or if she really was going into labor.

No time was wasted and the Knights called for a medical droid that used a gurney and she was transported through an elevator to get to a medbay. The cramps intensified, crippling her physically and mentally. Sorrow filled her mind and she only saw darkness around her. She felt alone and cold.

When she woke up, she found herself on a medical bed much different than the ones on the flagship. It had a mattress with sheets and a blanket. She had a medical gown on and her clothing and duffel bag were in a closet that was still cracked open. Somehow, she felt at peace and hoped to see Thexan at the foot of her bed.

But it wasn’t him. There was no one in the room with her.

Her babies were still inside of her body and even though the cramps had left some muscle pain, she felt normal and well enough to get up and get dressed. She couldn’t stay there.

If no one was in her way, it was her duty to go out and explore her possibilities. This was Zakuul, where could she go anyway? She knew nothing of that planet if no one took her hand.

The medical floor was empty except for worker droids and a few medics who were busy in their rec room. She silently slipped through their surveillance and walked towards the end of the wing. There was an intensive care room and she heard a respirator functioning.

She stepped in and saw a man lying on a cot with tubes tied to his face. His torso was bare, darkened in places by tattooed designs, and a large white bandage covered his abdomen.

“Thexan,” she gasped and rushed to his side, utterly surprised and shocked to see him there.

His eyelids fluttered and he turned his sand-stained face to look at her, reaching for the respirator mask that covered his face.

“I’m here,” she whispered, grabbing his left hand in hers. “You’re going to be okay.”

Forming words with his mouth, he appeared to have the most difficult time speaking.

“You found me,” he weakly said, stretching his lips to smile but he grimaced with pain instead. “Ta-...” He grunted and gaped for air, trying to look down on his wounds. “Get out of here.”

“No,” she protested, feeling revolted at his condition. “I still need your help... and I’m not leaving without you.”

His head dropped on the pillow, squinting as he appeared to hurt even more. It seemed the medics had given him nothing for the pain. Tayleen let go of his hand and scavenged the nearby drawers to find analgesic shots. There was plenty of kolto patches, gel and infusion shots. It took her far too long before she found the pain-relieving medicine.

“You must... leave...”

Ignoring his command, Tayleen pressed the medical gun to the region closest to his bandage without hitting his ribcage. The shot took him by surprise. She packed the medicine in her jacket pockets and grabbed his hand again, stroking it insistingly to keep him awake.

“Who did this to you, Thexan?” she murmured, fighting back the tears. “What happened?”

It must have been very recent, otherwise he wouldn’t have been this shaken after a hyperspace jump. His eyes moved rapidly as his face was directed at the ceiling, remembering the event. His mouth gaped and he looked sad again.

“It was an accident,” he replied in a breath.

He needed to rest, she knew it, but she couldn’t imagine letting him go to sleep while she was trying to escape. “Maybe you can tell me later,” she tried to say without sobbing, “when we’re both free from this place.”

Footsteps ran towards her but she didn’t have the heart to step away from the bed.

“Step away with your hands up!” shouted a Knight.

There were three of them, all had their blades active and they circled her and Thexan. This was it, she was going to risk her life for this man who had failed to save her own. The Knight continued, grinding his teeth as he spoke.

“If you care for Prince Thexan, you will comply.”

She turned, astonished and confused, when she saw the Knight lowering his lightsaber to finally disable it. When he saw Thexan look at him, all three of them deeply knelt down.

“Your Highness,” said another Knight, turning her dark visor towards the floor.

Tayleen brought her attention back to Thexan, his breath was unsteady, every move looked painful and he could only nod at the Knights.

“Why are you doing this?” he tediously asked.

The first Knight raised his head but still didn’t look at him directly. Tayleen thought it was reverence or an attempt to be respectful. Or maybe they didn’t want to be looking at their Prince when he was in such a state.

“After you fell, we swore to protect you and make sure you would survive, My Prince.”

Tayleen was confused: weren’t Knights supposed to make sure nothing happened to their Princes and Emperor? Why were they only three? Where was the medic supposed to heal Thexan?

“What happened?” she asked again, this time directed to the Knights.

The second Knight, the one nearest to the door, slowly stood before the others did. They looked at her and she tried to keep her hands where they could see them.

“Our Prince was injured in the Spire, in the throne room,” said the tallest Knight. He hesitated and looked at the man on the bed. “It _was_ an accident, but-”

He suddenly stopped to consult his fellows and the shortest of them nodded, looking up at Tayleen. “The medics weren’t allowed to see to his injuries. It was the Emperor’s orders.”

“Your Highness,” said the first Knight standing in the middle, bowing his head, “we are ready to face the penalty for treason once you are recovered and safe. Until then, your presence here will not be known.”

Amazed and shaken by the revelation, Tayleen looked at the bandage dressing on Thexan’s stomach. It was applied in a rush, held down by tape and blood was spotting at places. No professional medic would have tolerated this kind of sloppy work in his ward. The short Knight broke the formation and came to take Tayleen’s arm, dragging her to the other side of the room.

“You’re a combat medic,” she whispered to her through her filters. “Am I wrong?”

Searching the faceless visor, Tayleen stuttered nervously. “I-... it was only basic training, and I’m just a kolto dispenser when the need arises.”

“That’s good enough. You can make sure he stays alive until we get him somewhere safe.”

“But why can’t a real medic do this?”

Staring at her, the Knight shook her head. “I’m sure you dealt with lightsaber wounds before. You can do this.”

“A lightsaber did this?”

“ _Keep your voice down_!”

Tayleen stepped away from the Knight and looked over at Thexan. The taller Knight had put the oxygen mask back on his face.

“His brother did it,” quietly said the female Knight. “I wasn’t there, but they say Arcann tried to kill the Emperor and Thexan stopped him.” She sighed through her helmet filters. “They left him for dead in the throne room.”

Seeking support for balance, Tayleen went for the nearest chair and held her forehead. Her own belly was aching and she was upset and tired. The two other Knights went back near the door to guard it.

“What’s the plan?” Tayleen whispered to her new friend.

“We seek out transport off Zakuul,” answered the Knight. “Hiding Prince Thexan from the Emperor won’t be easy, so we have to act fast.”

She looked at the other two Knights, their golden plate armor gleaming even in the dim light, and Thexan was lying on the medical bed, barely treated and vulnerable.

Tayleen spoke through her teeth and stood. “I have an idea.”

*

The taller Knight was named Kesai and walked ahead while the first one, Vero, a handsome copper-haired male with broad shoulders, pushed Thexan’s gurney, wearing medical slacks and a lab coat. Ynda, the female Knight, held Tayleen by the arm, having fastened restrains on her wrists. They walked passed other Knights, and none seemed to wonder why the unconscious patient still wore his armor and helmet. They probably assumed he was dead and his face didn’t matter.

No, their attention was drawn to her instead.

“There aren’t that many Twi’leks on Zakuul,” she commented under her breath.

“There are no aliens on Zakuul,” corrected Ynda. Her grip loosened slightly. “Our planet has been isolated until recently, when Emperor Valkorion brought interstellar technology and knowledge of the galaxy. He is a god to us.”

Tayleen’s eyes fell on the medical bed, where the golden helmet was hiding Thexan. Had she known she had been living next to the son of a god for almost a month, she would have probably laughed.

Their convoy reached the elevator and Kesai stood guard while they rode several floors up.

“Now what?” Tayleen asked.

“Now,” answered Ynda, “now, we steal a ship.”

“Yes,” nodded Vero, stern yet nervous. “Because transporting a wounded Knight off planet totally makes sense.” The silence that followed made everyone uncomfortable. “My sincerest apologies, my Prince.”

Unable to retain a smile, Tayleen gave the Knight an understanding look. He was out of his comfort zone and anxious, though he did his best to stay frosty.

The departure level was big and they had to navigate through patrols and questioning. Her guards - her Knights - did an excellent job coming up with the most boring and rational fairy tale to keep out of harms way. They were going to send her, the pregnant Twi’lek, and her unfortunate victim to a backwater prison planet out of the system.

When they boarded an available shuttle, Tayleen had her restraints taken off while Thexan was transported to the passenger cabin. Ynda helped dislodge seats from the floor to make room for the medical bed. Meanwhile, Kesai headed to the cockpit and there was commotion.

“What is your business here?” said a filtered voice. “This shuttle’s not due to take off before tomorrow.” A lightsaber was switched on and she heard the thud of a body hitting the floor.

Kesai returned to the cabin, his lightsaber hilt in hand.

“There’s no pilot available right now. Can anyone fly this thing?”

All looked at Tayleen and she nodded, grabbing the seats to heave herself towards the cockpit.

Her heart was racing and she felt feverish, but sitting at the commands of a ship arose unexpected feelings of freedom. After a moment, she located the engine controls, the maneuvering handles, and throttle lever. That was it. She was taking control of her life again. Without warning, she initiated take off and the computer console began blazing warnings and security messages. Beside her, Kesai flicked open a communication line and brought his golden helmet closer to the dashboard.

“Spire Orbital this is shuttle transport one-six-four-seven-theta, requesting take off procedures. Over.”

The response was immediate and panicked.

“Shuttle one-six-four-seven-theta, what is this? Do you need the flight manual on your lap?”

“Spire Orbital, that won’t be necessary.” The Knight paused and gave Tayleen a short enigmatic look. “I just found it. Over... Thank you.”

With those words, Tayleen felt herself grinning as she pushed the throttle lever and the acceleration pushed everyone to the back of their seats, throwing the shuttle out of the hangar and into space.

The Eternal Fleet hang in their viewport, hauntingly static and forming a giant wall, keeping everything from going past it. Tayleen was nervous but she made abstraction of the fleet in her mind, forgot about Arcann and Valkorion and what they did. She focused her mind on her destination: home. Wherever home was.

She ripped the seams from her jacket’s lining and pulled out her comlink.

“You had that all along?” asked Kesai.

“It wasn’t safe to us it before now.” She activated it and selected the last known call and placed the device on the dash. The holo image flickered to life and she couldn’t fight the joy from her face when she saw Essan. “It’s me. Where can you pick me up?”

“Is this a trap?” She couldn’t see his face but she knew that tone of voice. He was ecstatic but hiding it well. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“It’s not a trap,” she shook her lekku, feeling a tear of joy slide down her face. She quickly wiped it with the back of her hand. “I’m here with a few friends, they helped me escape. We just left Zakuul.”

“I’m sending you coordinates,” he said, using his datapad. “Are you alright?”

“I am, but you should have a medical team ready. One of us is badly injured.”

Essan nodded and his mask turned to one side as he motioned to someone out of sight. “We’ll make sure they’re taken care of. Please hurry.”

Taking a breath, she closed her mouth and nodded before hitting the destination coordinates into the hyperspace route calculation.

“I’ve missed you,” she softly said, and turned off the comlink.

Stars streaked around the viewport and they jumped to hyperspace. The travel was short before they jumped out again and she never thought she’d longed to see the sight of the dark _Terminus_ -class destroyer hanging in front of the galaxy. Mesmerized, she completely forgot she was accompanied by Knights of Zakuul, all three of them gathered in the cockpit to look at Darth Marr’s flagship.

His fleet was of a considerable number, and a handful of other destroyers had joined. Still, it held no weight against the Eternal Fleet. Her heart sank as she imagined how a battle would unfold in case they were discovered.

Tayleen retreated back to the cabin after setting the auto-pilot to a landing course with the flagship. She found Thexan still on the bed, his helmet removed to allow for him to breathe more comfortably. He looked at her with half-open eyes. Against her own common sense she took his gloved hand in hers and sat on the nearest seat. His face was more pale than she remembered, despite the grime and sand from the battle on Korriban.

“You made it,” he whispered. “I barely had to do anything.”

She chuckled and felt sad at the same time. His strength was fading, he could barely squeeze her hand at all.

“You’re going to make it, too,” she told him, holding him more tightly. His hand was cold inside the glove.

“I served my purpose.” His blue eyes had gone almost all gray. “You can serve your own.”

She pressed her lips together and her vision blurred as she held back her tears.

“We serve no one, nothing. You are free now, Thexan.”

The proximity alarm chimed and the Imperial Destroyer’s tractor beam took over to ease their approach, sending light tremors through the ship. Tayleen kept her attention on Thexan as he breathed more and more slowly. Under the bed, there was her duffel bag containing his armor. She reached for the medkit and extracted a syringe with epinephrine.

This wasn’t a wise decision and it was medically reckless, but she wasn’t ready to let him die on her watch.

The shuttle touched down and the Knights lowered the boarding ramp. Opening the hatch, light came in and she saw a group of people on the platform. Imperial troopers, operatives, and the medical team was on the side, waiting for their green light.

Tayleen appeared first on the ramp and waved.

“We need a medic,” she commanded, motioning for the Knights to begin disembarking Thexan. “He was cut through the abdomen with a lightsaber about four hours ago. His blood pressure and temperature dropped.”

The team of medics was composed of humans and a Twi’lek. They took Thexan’s gurney once it was down the ramp and she touched his shoulder for a last reminder that she needed him to stay strong. They placed a respirator on his mouth and began rushing towards the medbay.

And she was left with the Knights at the foot of the Zakuulan shuttle, circled by the troopers who held them at gun point.

“Stand down,” she heard a male, electronically filtered voice shout.

She turned and saw Essan arriving from a different elevator, followed by Darth Marr, Lana Beniko, Doctor Lokin, Vector... She lost count and quickly paced to have Essan embrace her and she buried her face in his arms. She could no longer stop herself from sobbing.

“I’m so sorry.”

Essan rubbed her back and squeezed her just enough that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“You’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

Her belly churned and she felt a kick. And another. She laughed and felt light-hearted for the first time in very long. Essan released her and he looked down at her, holding a hand to her stomach and felt their children. She instantly breathed with more calm and serenity took over her.

“Your new friends,” he asked, bringing his attention to the Knights who were being escorted away. “We’ll have to take them in for questioning.”

She nodded, running a finger under her eyes. “They’re ready for that.” Darth Marr appeared and she straightened herself, wiping her palms on her jacket. “My Lord. Thank you for everything.”

“It is us who are grateful for your tenacity, Cipher.” He stood tall in front of her and she knew better than to try and get a hug from him as well. “Our intelligence operatives are asking for updates, I advise you not to make them wait for too long.”

She smiled back at him, knowing from his tone that he was in a good mood. “I have important news, but first I need to make sure that our patient is going to make it.”

Marr and Essan exchanged a look. Both were of the same stature and they appeared like brothers, both in armor and wearing masks. The parallel made her throat lock with grief.

“You should get some rest,” he told her. “We’ll move from this sector in the mean time, just to be safe.”

Essan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and they began heading towards the elevator. Tayleen smiled at her delighted crew, beginning to feel the toll of her exhaustion and it seemed that most of her weight was carried by Essan through his moral support. Perhaps the Force had a hand in it, too.

*

Drifting in and out of sleep for over three hours, Tayleen spent her rest time in bed, looking at the chrono on the bed stand and making trips to the refreshers. She was awake when Essan came in. It was his cabin, his allocated quarters for this special occasion. He looked at her for a few seconds and she smiled, knowing well what went on in his mind. He pulled back his hood and removed his mask.

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked, eying her curiously. His face was equally as tired as hers.

“I’m concerned for the man in the medbay.”

“He is important.”

It wasn’t a question, he could sense how she felt. Scratching the side of her belly, she pondered whether or not to reveal to him the identity of their guest. He would find out in the end, but she needed to preserve at least some chances for Thexan to be treated as an equal, before he would be judged and condemned for war crimes.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”

“What about the other three?”

“They protected us, committing treason against Valkorion.” She rolled sideways and slung her legs to the side of the bed to sit up, and she grabbed her datapad from the end table. “I need to write my report for Intelligence.”

“You need to rehydrate,” he told her, bringing a tall glass of water and he waited until she took it in hand before moving away. She began sipping the fresh drink as she sorted through her messages. “Pardon me if I’m going to seem overbearing for the next few days.”

“That’s how I know you care,” she told him, putting the glass down to look over to him. “I’m almost scared to ask how you have been, all of this time.”

He sat almost lying down on the desk chair, looking at her with eyes that seemed to squint at a blinding light.

“I’ve been better. It’s hard to realize that you’re finally here.” Not averting his eyes from her, he folded his arms against his chest and opened his mouth to speak but a chime interrupted him. He brought up his comlink. “Quinn?”

“My Lord, the three Zakuul Knights have given their testimonies and they’re all consistent.” The voice of Malavai Quinn coughed and cleared his throat. “It seems we have Prince Thexan in our custody. He was injured in a fight with his brother Arcann while trying to prevent the assassination of Valkorion.”

Essan looked at Tayleen. She didn’t dare to confirm or correct the information.

“Is the Prince awake yet?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not, sir. He just came out of the operation room.”

“Good to know. Thank you, Quinn.”

He touched his gauntlet and cut off the transmission as he inspired deeply in thought. She intently observed him as he was processing what Quinn had said about Thexan. Their gazes met and she realized she was holding her breath.

“Tayleen-” he began, lowering his eyes.

“I should have told you sooner,” she confessed. “We were so scared to get caught while escaping I needed to be one hundred percent certain it was safe before revealing his identity.”

His dark silver eyes pierced through her soul after she spoke. What he thought mattered to her a great deal.

“This is the man who captured you and held you hostage for almost a month.”

She frowned in anger and disgust at the mention of the most powerless moment she had lived in her life. He couldn’t understand, she told herself. He hadn’t been there. He couldn’t understand how Thexan had been good to her. However, everything was different now. She was no longer a captive. Thexan no longer called the shots.

Essan got up from his seat and sat beside her on the bed, touching her hand as she nervously clung to the mattress. The physical contact made her cringe inside.

“I’m not a victim,” she hissed, pulling her hand away.

“I wasn’t suggesting you were.”

She threw her hands up and stood, walking around the bed to put on her trousers. “You’re implying that he took advantage of me, that’s the same thing.”

“So, you’re defending him.” He turned, standing tall behind her. “What happened, exactly?”

She slipped her feet into her boots and let out a sigh. Feeling upset and hurt didn’t help.

“He had two choices when he found me on Berith: to kill me or to take me alive as a trophy. But afterwords he didn’t take me to Valkorion.” Catching her breath, she grabbed her jacket hanging from the nearby closet. “We talked and he came to the decision to help me escape. He provided all the materials I needed in order to contact you...” She stopped herself thinking about that night when Arcann had entered her room, thinking twice before sharing that detail. “He went against his own family to save my life.”

Essan propped his fists to his hips and processed it all as his jaw moved side-to-side.

“You did a good thing bringing him back.”

She sighed with relief. “I need to see him. I don’t want Marr plowing into his brain without knowing the whole story.”

“I’m coming with you.”

The medbay was heavily guarded at the entrance, and two more guards were standing outside the room where Thexan was recovering. There were wounded officers and soldiers everywhere, being treated or patiently waiting for treatment. The chief of the medical team, a male Twi’lek of teal skin called Doctor Tanak, met with Essan and Tayleen before they could go inside.

“The surgery was a success,” he told them flatly, his purple eyes wary of the man sleeping on the other side of the transparent wall. “But like all lightsaber cuts it’s going to take a long time to heal. He was lucky no vital organs were hit.”

Essan stuck his thumbs in his belt, watching through the window as well.

“Is he fit to talk?” he asked, his voice once again altered by the mask, the way she was accustomed to hear it

Doctor Tanak pressed his lips forward in an evasive expression. “The anesthesia is wearing off just about now. If what I hear is true, I sure hope he starts talking.”

Tayleen took a breath and stepped towards him. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He simply shrugged and went on his way. The Imperial troopers stood at attention when they entered the recovery room.

The medical personnel had put Thexan in a gray hospital shirt and he was breathing on his own, steadily and deeply. The bed had been propped up to allow him to be in a half-sitting position to ease any tension on his abdomen. His eyelids fluttered open when they came in. Tayleen felt pinching in her chest, still unused to seeing him so vulnerable and weak. She forced a smile and came over to his bedside. Essan stayed behind a few paces.

“How are you feeling?” she softly asked, pulling the nearest chair to her and sat, leaning forward in case he couldn’t speak up.

“Like I shouldn’t be here,” he answered, his voice dry as his eyes moved over her head to watch the other person in the room.

“You belong with us now,” she told him, smirking at the thought of the previous time those words were uttered.

Thexan smiled back at her and turned his head to the ceiling, closing his eyelids as he sighed. When he looked back at her again, he hesitantly raised his head from the pillow.

“You must be Darth Skordus.”

Uncrossing his arms, Essan came forward and stood at the foot of the bed, his mask looked down at Thexan in its typically terrifying and cold manner.

“You know who I am.”

“I know the names and stories of every Sith Lord, Jedi Master, military commander...” Thexan rasped, coughed and cleared his throat. He brought a hand over his stomach as he winced. “It was mandatory homework on Zakuul.”

Tayleen watched the father of her children stand undisturbed and emotionless while she was almost trembling with fear that the two of them would begin to argue.

“You take trophies on the battlefields,” accusingly stated Essan. “Those worthy of your Eternal Empire, you freeze them and collect them like trinkets.”

Thexan nodded, jaw locked tight as he held the gaze of a Sith. “My father’s orders.”

“And the young adepts on Korriban,” Essan continued, “what of them who were barely able to hold a lightsaber?”

“They died quickly,” Thexan answered with honesty in his tone. “We weren’t there for them.”

Tilting his head to one side, Essan shifted his stance and folded his arms again. The silver hilt of his lightsaber dangled at his belt.

“This conquest, where is it heading? What is your next target?”

Thexan breathed in more rapidly and he shook his head, clenching his fists as he attempted to calm down.

“I don’t know... I-” he looked over at Tayleen and she hesitated, nervous that her intervention would impair his judgment. “When we returned to Zakuul, our father wouldn’t speak to us. My brother...” he took in a deep breath, looking back at Essan and keeping his eyes open even though they were brimming with tears, “he lost control. He attacked him and I pulled him away but he... didn’t stop.” His face was in complete sorrow as he looked at her again. “I didn’t _see_ it coming.”

She felt her lips twitch in a painful frown. He had had a premonition about his brother losing his life against Valkorion, but not this? She reached for his hand. It was warm again and he squeezed hers only lightly. Essan took notice but made no comment.

“Were you trying to save your father?” she asked.

He let his hand out of her grasp and folded his arms protectively, looking down at nothing. “I was trying to save Arcann... Like I’ve always done.”

“So your emperor broke him,” Essan said, “pushed him to his limits. You were just in the way.”

Thexan blinked and made water slide down his eye and he didn’t respond. Tayleen came to realize that both men were Force users, and that their conversation happened on two levels. His pain was too much for her to bear. She gave him a pat on the arm and did her best to smile comfortingly.

“Don’t despair, Thexan. You did save your brother, and you’re alive to see it.”

Shaking his head, he wiped his face but hid behind his trembling hand. “I don’t think so but... thank you.”

Defeated, she gave him a last look and failed to come up with anything more to say. Essan helped her get up and they left the room.

Once out of earshot from the guards and out in the hallways, she allowed herself to be emotional and let out some of the anguished she’d felt beside Thexan. He was heartbroken and grieving, having died in the eyes of his brother and father. She used a disposable tissue from her pockets and sat down on a couch in the waiting room. Essan quietly sat beside her.

“Thank you for understanding,” she told him softly.

“I have to say I was concerned about you,” he said. “That you’d developed feelings for this Prince.”

Tayleen chewed on the inside of her cheeks and looked up at his visor. “I have. Essan... I was lonely, and desperate for help. And he was just... _decent_ with me.”

“Well,” he raised a palm up, “now you get to be even.”

She touched his hand as she smiled gratefully.

“Of course I am displeased about this,” he continued. “I don’t like it, but he’s _your_ responsibility now.”

Lowering her brow, she was perplexed and surprised. “How do you mean?”

“There’s no chance we would release him back to the enemy,” Essan replied. “Not ever. Since you had the most contact with him it’s up to you to make sure he doesn’t betray us. I will help as much as I can, but... that man stole you away from me.” His voice slurred, and he ran a gloved finger along her jawline. “Don’t be upset if I punch him in the face one day.”

“Oh, Essan...” she smiled dearly and clung to his hand. “You’ll never lose me again. Not while we have these two to take care of.” She meshed her fingers to his and brought his hand to her belly. “Thexan was important to me while I was on their flagship. But now... I have to care for my family.”

He leaned back and squeezed her hand. His strength was more comforting than she would openly admit. “You are all he has now.”

She had come to accept her role as future mother and caretaker for her family, and she wanted to rekindle her affection for Essan. Was that going to be changed by the intrusion of this foreigner in their lives? Was she ready to include him in her family? The fact that Essan was bringing it up made her want to hug him in front of every orderly on the medbay. She knew her children would grow to be wise and strong thanks to him.

“I do wish to see him happy,” she told him, directing her gaze towards the medical rooms. “His own family is torn apart. Valkorion had them train as soldiers since childhood.” She took in a shaky breath. “Promise me we won’t push our kids to fight unless they want to.”

“Hopefully this war will be over when they’re old enough to chose,” he murmured.

Tayleen let her head rest upon his shoulder. She thought about taking a nap when footsteps approached. It was Darth Marr. Both stood in his presence, herself a little slower and clinging to Essan’s elbow.

“He spoke,” Essan began, leading the Dark Councilor towards Thexan’s room. “He’s resting but now we can confirm some of the most powerful Sith and Jedi who fell may well be alive on Zakuul. Also, the attack on Valkorion was thwarted only because Thexan was defending his brother. I’m convinced that’s the truth.”

“So, we have a heir to the Eternal Throne in our hands,” contemplated Darth Marr, joining his hands in his back. “Cipher Nine, you have outdone yourself.”

Wanting to smile and feel satisfied at this gratifying comment, Tayleen only bowed her head and looked through the window. The man who was lying there was light years away from the one she had known the day before. Essan replied in her stead.

“Lord Marr, in her condition I would prefer that she would remain near the medbay. She is soon coming to term.”

“I will allow it, naturally.”

“Also,” he exchanged a look with her, “I would like to keep a close eye on Thexan. Since he treated Cipher Nine with respect and grace, we should return the favor.”

“That is up to debate,” Marr groaned. “We have limited resources, Wrath.”

“Then let me spare the expenses, my Lord. I believe he is reasonable and likely to cooperate.”

“If you insist. But I shouldn’t have to remind you that your priority is the war against Zakuul, Lord Skordus. We can’t afford any distractions.”

Marr turned his masked gaze upon Tayleen, then at Thexan through the window before turning on his heels and leaving the ward. She regretted this war, being there at all and plaguing this man with her troubles. Essan was paying for her as well, losing the trust of his superior.

Still clinging to his arm she felt his bicep contracting as he looked down at her. “He’s angry,” she said.

“No, he worries about us.”

 

* * *

 


	9. Terminus Flagship

 

The bag was stowed under the bed, inconspicuously brown and torn at places from use. He pulled the zipper open as he bent between his knees, expecting to find Tayleen’s clothes. What he found instead was a set of black and dark gray armor with gold finishes.

He looked over his shoulder, pensively listening to Tayleen as she breathed through her mouth. She lied in his bed with the sheets pushed to her ankles. It was the hot flashes, he had learned. Sleeping close to her body only made it worse.

He pulled up the chest piece from the duffel bag. It was sturdy yet light, fit for a man who needed maximum mobility and still focus on physical power. The torso was intact but the waist was sectioned clean above the belt, melting the polymer alloys and fabric. The armor smelled of war and death. A death that had no emotion, no excuse and _no presence_. Essan was torn on the question of Thexan, and had it not been for Tayleen’s trust of him, he would have let him die in the hangar bay.

Putting the clothes back inside he bag, he ground his molars trying to think of a better place to hide them. The equipment of the three Knights of Zakuul had been confiscated and locked away in the armory but there had been previous finds from earlier battles, not to mention the Knight Essan had captured on Hoth.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing gets passed you,” he answered, turning his head to see Tayleen looking at him sleepily. “I was looking at his armor.”

She stretched her arm across his pillow and moaned satisfyingly as a feline. “Anything special about it?”

“The make is peculiar.”

“ _You_ ’re peculiar,” she giggled as he felt her foot nudge him in his bottom. Grabbing it, he thought she had been walking on fire. “Cold,” she complained, still laughing. “Your hand is freezing.”

“And you’re burning up,” he replied with genuine concern. He leaned across the bed to feel her forehead with the back of his hand. “I’m calling the medic.”

She looked back at him with fear in her eyes. “You’re over-reacting.” Swatting his hand away, she pushed herself to sit up. “I’m not due before next month. Calm down.”

“Then let me run the shower for you.”

“I need to _pee_ ,” she mumbled, waddling towards the refreshers with his aid.

“You can go in the shower,” he said humorously, circling her back with his arm. “I do it all the time.”

"Gross."

They stood together under the shower head, still wearing their tops and underwear when the cool water began sprinkling. Tayleen gasped and cried and her voice was a delight to his ears. He held her close, stroking her shivering lekku as she sought refuge against his chest. The narrow cabin resonated their every breath.

“This reminds me of something,” she stammered, raising her blues eyes at him.

He smiled back at her, running a hand around her cheek. “It was a long time ago.”

“Too long. Essan...”

She looked down again. Her trembling hand went up his back and he felt his shirt being tugged as she clutched at the wet fabric.

“What is it?” he asked her, starting to panic. Was she going into labor?

“Nothing,” she answered as her voice sounded husky. “I just missed you.”

And he had missed her but couldn’t get himself to speak. He felt only pain in his mind and heart when remembering the first night they had spent together. The one and only time they had made love and then parted ways. He caressed her head, checking her temperature as he did so. _Say something_. He lowered his head, drawn by the need to feel her skin with his own, to brush his lips upon her face. Words jammed in his throat and she looked up again.

“Essan,” she called in panic. “Essan!”

She almost fell out of his grasp as she curled over herself, wincing in pain.

It was starting. He cut the water flow and eased her down as she was no longer able to stand, face twisted in agony as she held her belly.

“Hold on, Tayleen,” he told her as reassuringly as he could, “breathe. Remember? Breathe...”

He drew air and expired, as the medic had instructed when they had planned for this. But it wasn’t due now. Not today, not like this...

“Please, Essan,” she implored, cramping and suffering like he had never seen her. “Make it stop!”

He took her hand and she squeezed it with incredible strength.

“You’re going to get through this. Keep breathing.”

The medical team rushed her to the medbay. Essan hadn’t had time to change to his armor or mask, and simply put on dry clothes before leaving his room. No one knew his face except Tayleen. But it didn’t matter, she needed him _now_. She was placed under a scanning monitor that displayed her vitals and that of the twins. Their heart rates were racing, sending another shiver of panic through his spine.

The medics talked to each other in rushed but controlled tones, handling the situation and making sure she was safe. Essan became deaf to their voices and focused solely on Tayleen. She was covered in tears and sweat and she still didn’t let go of his hand, wincing intensely.

“I can’t do this. Please, please...”

“Tayleen, listen to me. You’re doing fine. I’m here.”

Doctor Tanak appeared on the other side of the bed while a nurse applied an intravenous line to Tayleen’s forearm.

“They are not positioned for delivery, Ma’am. You have gone into a stress-induced labor and stalling it will result in complications for the future. We need to operate now.” He held out a syringe. “Say the word, Ma’am.”

They needed her consent. Essan pressed his hand over hers and nodded to her, jaw locked and certain that he didn’t want to know what those complications meant for her. Tayleen nodded and answered a simple “yes” to Tanak. The needle went in the drip, and within seconds she was asleep and under oxygen.

“We’re going to need you to vacate the room, sir.”

Her hand no longer squeezed him and he let go of her with utter shock. Seeing her unconscious and about to be cut open made him irrationally furious but he knew it was for the best. At least the pain had stopped.

He sat outside the operation room and looked down every time someone walked by. Long moments had passed when the door hissed open. A nurse in gray medical scrubs and mask came to him.

“Follow me, my-... sir. We’re getting you something to wear.”

As he did what was required, he could only wonder what he was going to see. He hoped he wouldn’t lose his mind upon witnessing whatever they had done to Tayleen.

“She is still asleep,” apologized the nurse, “and we didn’t have time to use the local anesthetic for her to be awake for the birth.”

Once wearing the sterilized medical garb, he entered the room behind the nurse. Light bathed the operation table where a large portion of Tayleen was covered in a green sheet of surgical paper. Her belly was apparent, sectioned at the lower edge, and he saw her face, peacefully sleeping. Doctor Tanak was there with his surgical tools and he was prying open the orange skin at the base of the abdomen. There was blood and he had seen all shades of it, but this one was blue like his own. Essan widened his eyes as he saw a tiny little hand.

Heart racing and knees weakening, he called on the Force to stay alert and careful. Tanak dug his gloved hands inside the placenta and there came a head. A perfectly round, pale head with the smallest ears he had ever seen. The baby looked like him. It was a boy.

“My Lord,” spoke Tanak, holding the baby still attached by the umbilical cord, “here is your son.”

“Ceyrin,” Essan gasped. He was amazed and speechless upon seeing this living creature made from his flesh and Tayleen’s, crying as he took his first breath.

He had fought the greatest warriors of the galaxy, brought down entire armies and starships to the ground, and yet he felt utterly defenseless.

After the cord was safely removed the nurse wrapped the baby in a soft blanket and he instantly stopped screaming, his dark blue eyes wide open. She brought Ceyrin for him to hold. He felt awkward and inadequate, having never handled something so fragile and so precious before. Ceyrin looked up and they locked eyes for a moment. It felt as if the Force was gathering its light around them, combining their presences into one.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, feeling his eyes blur with emotion. “You won’t be alone for long.”

“Indeed,” Tanak said, this time bringing to the world a pair of feet that wriggled and kicked. “She’s a fighter, this one.”

“Zherrys,” he laughed, relieved and elated to have a daughter as well.

The nurse returned to take Ceyrin out of his hands. Zherrys was of a strange shade of yellow and her eyes were purple when she gazed upon the one who had dared disturb her peace in the warm safety of her mother’s womb. Handling her was a whole other story and she wouldn’t stop kicking and flaying her arms before the blanket came to tightly wrap around her. Essan felt the tears coming when he held her and saw the tiny lekku from either side of her head. She let out a piercing cry when she squinted her mesmerizing eyes at him.

“Congratulations on your beautiful, healthy children,” said the nurse.

He let Zherrys be taken into a crib where she would stay warm and hydrated beside her brother. Coming back to Tayleen he wanted to hold her hand but she was still to be sown up and treated for the surgery.

“My Lord, if you would please remain in the nursery, I will finish the operation and have Lady Tayleen transferred to her recovery room.”

Essan nodded, still astounded by the recent experience of holding his children. He entirely trusted Tanak and his ability to keep Tayleen safe.

*

Word got around the flagship that the twins were born and his comlink was flooded with messages to congratulate him. Quinn was first, then Vette and Pierce. He had no time to acknowledge them, between gathering Tayleen’s things for her stay at the medbay and providing first care for his children. They were born healthy and that was all he’d wanted. Tayleen was awake after an hour, looking pale and fragile in her recovery room and he let her hold Ceyrin and Zherrys. She was sitting with difficulty and barely had any strength to hold one baby let alone two.

Essan sat beside her bed in a comfortable seat, holding a bottle of milk that Zherrys was drinking from, falling asleep against his chest.

“That looks good on you.”

He turned to look at Tayleen, her voice was raspy from fatigue and her eyes blinked slowly and she looked at Ceyrin in her arms, supported by a pillow she had placed over her incision. He didn’t mind seeing her nursing a baby though it seemed out of character for her. She seemed so unsure and afraid to do something wrong.

“I could say the same thing,” he slyly replied.

“You’ve seen them before,” she replied, adjusting her blouse over her breasts.

He chuckled and gently put the bottle down on the table nearby. Zherrys was sleeping and he didn’t want to put her back in her crib yet. Both of the children were tired as well from being born. Her small lekku were the softest thing that he’d ever touched, and he tried not to handle them too much when cradling her. Ceyrin was soon done eating and Tayleen required his help to take him from her arms. She would have to be resting for at least three days. During that time, Essan couldn’t see himself leaving her alone and tend to the children by herself.

“Thank you,” she told him quietly, closing her blouse. “For everything.”

He set the twins to sleep together in their crib and turned to Tayleen. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you can’t stay forever. It’s good enough that you could be present today, I was apprehending much worse.”

He propped his hands to his waist and lowered his brow. Darth Marr needed him to plan the offensive against Zakuul. There was a prince in their custody with vital information. Three Knights were waiting to know their fate.

“Let me deal with the worse part of things,” he comfortingly told her. “You focus on healing and getting to know your new family. I’ll send for help.”

He thought Vette could be a good babysitter. Or even Quinn.

“That’s alright,” she smiled lazily. “My entire crew probably wants to come and take care of everything. You don’t have to worry.”

It had happened so fast, between the first contraction in the shower and now they were discussing whether all was normal and fine when she had just had a C-section. They were parents.

He stepped closer and hesitantly touched her shoulder. Her concerned eyes made him frown. He swallowed and felt his face starting to heat up.

“I don’t know what to say,” he copped out, unable to speak his confused mind.

“Then say nothing,” she replied. Tayleen touched his hand and looked him in the eye. It broke his heart to see her so exhausted. “I don’t want you to feel forced to do anything.”

“But I want to, Tayleen. I agreed to this, don’t you remember?”

Her blue eyes lowered as she reacted confusedly. She looked... ashamed? They had spent so long trying not to impede in each others privacy, to respect their mutual boundaries and not to _be_ anything that he no longer knew what he was to her. He couldn’t even look at her without feeling sorry.

He was probably tired, that was it. And he had to go back to his armor and exercise his authority over Imperial officers. Or maybe he needed a good fight.

“I thought,” she spoke with a sob, “I thought we would become a family and it would be simple.” She used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. “I didn’t think I would feel this way but... I still don’t know if I truly want this. I’m so scared, I-” her face twisted in terror and he tried to hold her hand but it was trembling, “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

He held on to her as if a hug would make the crying stop but he himself couldn’t keep his emotions in check. He heard a grumbled cry coming from the crib. The sound seemed to make Tayleen even more aggravated. It was probably her hormones. A lot was explained that way, lately.

“This is wrong,” she murmured, nestled against his shoulder. “After all this time, I never once told you I loved you.”

Essan let out a breath, dumbfound and saddened. “I know,” he firmly replied. “It’s okay.”

She hid her entire face into her palms and he knew he was losing her yet again. This time, he couldn’t repair the damage he would cause if he did not do something.

He had to say something, but what?

Rubbing her back, he tried to keep his calm and to be supportive but that had only worked so far.

“Tayleen. I can’t sit here and watch you do this to yourself. Not now.”

It took everything he had to keep a straight face. Wearing a mask had spared him that kind of trouble before. She directed her swollen eyes at his and he tried not to avert them.

“It will be easy if we learn to communicate,” he said. “It doesn’t mean being romantic, or being a couple... Unless you would want that. But we must be a team for Zherrys and Ceyrin. They deserve that much.”

A weight pulled off his chest as he finished talking. Tayleen sniffled and seemed to find her center. “Yes. I’m sorry for reacting like that.”

It didn’t matter. The important thing was to have her mind set straight and not loose on a self-destructive path. It wasn’t the hormones but it was deeply rooted in childhood trauma. He had known about it heading in and it was a matter of time before she had to face her demons again.

“I’ll always be around,” he whispered, gently directing her face towards him so that he could lightly kiss her forehead. “But I need to know you’re okay with that.”

Nodding, she locked eyes with him and a surge of passion filled his heart. There was longing in her expression.

“I always knew I could trust you,” she replied as softly then she looked down. “I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

Essan shook his head, stroking one of her lekku, thinning his mouth wishing she’d just enjoy the moment. “We can’t resent each other forever. Deep down,” he paused, hesitating to open his heart to her, “I still think of you as the first day we met on Belsavis, and when we traveled to Nar Shaddaa. That night on Dromund Kaas... I knew neither of us could be tied down. It was too good, too soon. I had to let you go.”

Twining her slender fingers with his, she brought her face up and their noses touched. He swore he could hear his own heart beating when he felt her ragged breath. She was in great pain from the surgery.

“How come it feels good to be with you, yet it hurts so much?” she asked in the most vulnerable tone.

“Let me kiss you,” he sighed, eyes half-closed. “Please, Tayleen.”

She almost fought it when their mouths joined, but he held her face only lightly, pressing his lips against hers to incite a physical response. She brought a hand up to his heart, using the other to shift and turn to face him more comfortably. They were relearning to be joined this way, to breathe in synchronicity. It felt new yet familiar and so much time had gone to waste. He shuddered as she caressed his cheeks. He was Essan, now Darth Skordus, the unloved orphan who disguised himself as a tyrant that none could approach. There had been no one else like Tayleen in his life. Fear now grasped him that she would once again turn away and shut herself from him.

It seemed she would do that every time they got closed to admitting feelings for one another. Yet, how could she so casually confess her sentiments for Thexan?

Tayleen looked at him worriedly as if she could sense the turmoil in his head. “What’s wrong?”

He had to unclench his jaw to answer her. “I remembered what you said about Thexan.”

Her brow raised before lowering with concern, her voice deepened. “What about Thexan?”

“You love him.”

It was an accusation more than a statement. He was aware of the bag of snakes he was opening but it was plaguing his mind. Tayleen stroked his swollen lips with a thumb and shook her head at him.

“I love him as a friend, it’s clear to me and I’m not confused about it. But you...” she sighed heavily. “You’re infinitely more important to me than anyone else, and it’s terrifying.” She searched his face, nervously seeking his attention. “My life- _our_ lives depend on you.”

Her attention was drawn to the crib and Essan looked over to see that the twins were fast asleep. Her hand came back to his face, pulling his chin towards her for another kiss. She nibbled at him hungrily this time, producing a sucking noise when separating. He wanted nothing more but to stay with her for hours, to make her feel good and to show her how good she made him feel. Then he reminded himself this was a recovery room and their children were right next to them.

“Tayleen,” he stopped her, drawling his voice as he began to feel his head spin.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “I’m still hormonal...”

“You need to rest,” he said, getting off the bed. He clung to her hands while she silently begged him to stay. “I’ll return later. If you wish I can invite your new friend so he can meet the children.”

Tayleen smiled, pleased with his suggestion. Essan didn’t like having the son of their greatest enemy coming close to his kin, but it could help her feel better.

*

After showering for a second time that day, he put on his clean undersuit, his washed and disinfected armor, cloak and gloves. He went by the refreshers to grab missing items for Tayleen: her toothbrush, some moisturizing cream, and feminine hygienic pads because he wasn’t sure if the medics had provided them already. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and instantly his thoughts went to Ceyrin. The boy had his nose and ears, but his eyes were blue unlike the dark gray of his father’s. And Zherrys was more likened to her mother, he thanked the stars for that.

Essan took the helmet and placed it over his head before attaching the mask. The seals hissed as both parts latched together and his augmented visual interface went online. There were messages from Dorn Base on Hoth, the security staff having no one to send their final report to. Their last call for help. As he walked back to the medbay, he skimmed over the message and stored it somewhere his other failures were kept. The other message was from Vette, saying she wanted to come and see the twins and offering to look after them and Tayleen.

He arrived at the guarded door. The two troopers stood at attention, rifles ready.

“I’m taking the prince for a walk,” he told them. They nodded in acknowledgment and Essan entered the room.

The bed was empty but he heard the sound of water flushing down the pipes and Thexan emerged from the refreshers, steadying himself with a cane.

“Good,” he said. “You’re already up.”

The young man froze and his eyes stopped at the bag Essan was holding. Even in this unplanned moment, his presence in the Force was cloaked, as if he’d trained his entire life to acquire this instinctive trait, to live under the radar of all other Force users. Essan tried not to appear bothered by it when he spoke.

“I hope you washed, because you’re coming to see them.”

“I-...” he hesitated, his brow creasing with confusion. His hair was trimmed short and he had recently shaved his facial hair. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”

“Please, Your Highness. I _insist_.” He knew the son of Valkorion was aware that Tayleen had given birth the other night. “She is right next door.”

“Is she alright?” he asked with genuine concern.

Essan resisted the impulse to pull him by the arm. “Tayleen told me she cared about you, Thexan. A _lot_. So I thought maybe you would want to return the favor.”

Thexan pierced him with his steel blue eyes. They were similar to Tayleen’s. Essan tried not to let his mind linger on it.

“I would very much like to see her.”

 _Her_ , not them. He raised his gloved hand at him, pointing at his face.

“This is not an absolution for your crimes, nor is it a gesture of good faith. I’m only doing this for Tayleen because, somehow, you mean something to her and she could use moral support.”

The young man - how old was he really? Essan made a mental note to check his medical chart - finally agreed to follow him. Essan took his time, seeing how difficult it appeared to be walking with a fresh wound right across the stomach. Using a cane wasn’t Thexan’s preferred skill.

Upon entering Tayleen’s room, Essan knocked and the door hissed open. Thexan looked humble and apprehensive, slouching forward until he saw her. His face lit up with happiness and so did hers. Essan stood and watched them reunite in reverse: Tayleen being bed-ridden while he limped up to her.

“Scar buddy,” she greeted him.

He smiled shyly and looked towards the crib where the twins were awake and making baby noises.

“Oh, Essan,” Tayleen called. “I think they need to be changed...”

Setting the bag upon her table he went to pick up Zherrys who was kicking and whining. Her purple eyes widened like saucers when she saw him.

“Shh,” he tried to hush through his mask filters and laid her across his shoulder. “It’s your father. And say hello to uncle Thexan.”

The boy stood aback at the announcement and Essan chuckled. He carried Zherrys to the other side of the room and set her down to be changed. His mask filtered all smells if he activated that option, which he did, and Zherrys was munching toothless at her hand while he cleaned her up.

“They are beautiful,” he heard Thexan tell in his back.

“Thank you,” Tayleen replied softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, all things considered.” There was a pause. “You weren’t due until next month, or am I mistaken?”

“The doctor said it was stress-induced... But they’re healthy. To be honest, I’m just glad it’s done.”

Zherrys produced an amused giggle as she smiled widely at her father. Finishing putting her pyjama back on, Essan threw the diaper into the trash disposal and leaned over his daughter, smiling back and reaching to her through the Force. In turn, she reached up with her stubby arms and he let her catch one of his fingers.

“Darth Marr has asked me to join Sith Intelligence,” Thexan told.

“What did you say?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I? He said that I wouldn’t be held accountable for the invasions if I did everything he asked.”

Essan carried Zherrys back to her crib and let Ceyrin play with his glove. Thexan was sitting in his seat and looked up at Essan with stern defeat.

“Marr is no politician,” he told him. “He will stay true to his word, but we can’t speak for the rest of the Dark Council. When news of your survival goes public, people will want to see you judged.” He acknowledged Tayleen’s worrisome face with a nod. “It would be a great show of force against the Republic. They would easily fall in line if they knew we had Thexan.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” she said, hiding her hands in her lap.

He adjusted the small blanket over his children and casually sat at the end of her bed, facing Thexan.

“In order to avoid such an outcome I requested that you stay under my supervision. I know for a fact that Sith Intelligence has ties with SIS.”

“What about this ship?” Thexan asked, trying to lean forward but he winced and held his wound. “Can you trust each and every crew member?”

Arms crossed, Essan held a stiff and faceless gaze at him for several long seconds. “How did you like wearing a full-faced helmet when leaving Zakuul?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. It seems your face is the most iconic part of your character. What if we simply took that away, introducing you as a new Sith lord among the crew...”

Thexan balled his fists upon the arm rests and his jaw tightened. “I am not wearing a mask.”

“Then don’t leave these premises. I offered you a solution, Thexan. At least think about it.”

He folded his arms defensively, rubbing his elbows and upper arms.

“Arcann wears a mask... It changed his voice, his attitude. I don’t want to resort to that.”

There were pictures from recent surveillance footage. It wasn’t just a damaged mask but also a cybernetic arm. He caught sight of Tayleen raising a hairless brow, intrigued by what Thexan had said.

“He wasn’t given a choice,” Essan said slowly, attempting to be understanding. “You suffered a much greater ordeal. What I’m offering is the means to protect your identity, not to change who you are.”

Between his first day at the Sith Academy and the moment he stepped off Korriban, Essan had learned not to trust anyone, to conceal his true self and not show emotion. No one cared about his thoughts, there had never been consideration or respect for his feelings. The mask only reflected people’s apathetic arrogance and the passive violence of the ones who used him for their personal gain.

“Don’t even try getting him to take his mask off,” Tayleen said out of the blue, eying him humorously. “I always liked it, I admit.”

Essan smiled and uncrossed his arms. “I must confer with Darth Marr. If he means to have you working with Sith Intelligence I should share my insights.”

 

* * *

She was able to get up from bed and tend to Ceyrin and Zherrys on her own after two days, managing the pain medication by herself, as well. A droid medic would come twice a day to change her bandage. Essan had set up another bed in her room so that he could spend the night and feed or change the children when she couldn’t. It was odd, a Sith busy with toddler diapers and baby bottles. He had taken to parenthood much easier than she’d predicted. Perhaps, she bitterly told herself, she didn’t know him very well.

On the fourth day she was done nursing, and sat on the seat next to her bed with her datapad. Kaliyo had been chatting with her via text messages, insisting on bringing her old clothes back now that she had lost the baby bump. There was a knock at her door.

When called in, Darth Marr appeared in the frame, bowing his head ceremoniously. Tayleen stood, biting her lips as her incision burned and ached when she contracted her abdominal muscles.

“My Lord.”

He waved away her formality as his hooded head tilted to one side. “Do not exert yourself on my accord,” he politely said. “You must aim for a speedy recovery.”

She settled into her seat again. “That’s very kind of you.”

Being alone in his presence again after many months made her somewhat nervous. Hands in his back he walked quietly towards the crib where the twins were napping after their meal, looming over them at a respectful distance. She was glad they were asleep so as not to see yet another masked person so soon in their lives. But as the moment went on for what seemed like minutes, she suspected Marr was using the Force. To do what, exactly?

“They’re named Ceyrin and Zherrys,” she said to break the silence. “Boy and girl.”

Saying nothing, Marr stepped towards her slowly, head slightly hanging as if in deep thought.

“If you won’t tell me what’s on your mind I might start crying again,” she warned with a touch of sarcasm.

“You needn’t worry, Agent. Your children have inherited their father’s ties to the Force. This is promising.”

She thinned her lips and braced herself for an argument. Knowing her children would have to undergo strict judgment and face deadly trials made her heart sink to her guts. But such was life and in this huge galaxy, preparation was everything. She had gone through terrible experiences during her Imperial military training, and still had to suffer for what mattered to her. Ceyrin and Zherrys were born of a warrior and a spy. Their fate was sealed unless...

“What do you suggest I do while they are young?” she submissively asked.

“There is work to be done for Sith Intelligence,” he told her without hesitation. “As for your children, I trust they will find adequate care among your crew. This ship is not meant for housing toddlers.”

“I know,” she replied, defeated. “You asked Thexan to join Sith Intelligence?”

He nodded his mask. “We discussed this internally with Lana Beniko and your-... the Wrath.” There was an uncertainty in his tone and she swore she thought he was going to call Essan her husband. “We agreed that the prince may still be subject to psychological instabilities, therefore we cannot trust him entirely.”

“He needs time to process the change,” she concurred. “I’ve only spoken to him shortly yesterday. I might try again during lunch.”

“Keep in mind that we are at war, Agent. If Thexan is stalling us, we may have to deal with him more expeditiously.” He crossed his bulky arms against his breast plate. “In normal circumstances, there should have been a trial at the Citadel but the Dark Council is dissolved. This gives him the privilege of being in a judicial limbo and his only salvation is to help us win against Zakuul. Otherwise, whatever you achieve with him would be for naught.”

She would have stood at attention and nodded, but she was sitting and her belly was hurting because the pain medication wore off. “I understand,” she simply said with her hands on her lap. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. It’s a privilege to have you as a commander and ally.”

“The sentiment is reciprocated,” he spoke barely above a murmur. “However, much of your troubles could have been avoided had you been more cautious with the Wrath. Passion is desired among the Sith, but his commitment to you and your progeny is unmatched and unseen in all of the Empire.” He leered down at her through his mask. “His loyalty lies where you are, Agent. Be mindful of this.”

“I would never defect from the Empire,” she said with determination. “It’s... my home. I’ve known nothing else.”

Marr gave a short nod towards her children. “You do now... But if we all want to survive against Zakuul’s Eternal Empire we must concentrate our efforts into preserving our own.”

“I’ve never questioned it,” she said. “Even when Imperial Intelligence was dissolved. I wanted to do something else with my life in order to stay clear of the chaos that ensued.” She paused for effect. “They are my new constant now, because the Empire isn’t what it used to be. My Lord.”

If he wanted to berate her for that insolence, shouting out loud in a nursery was probably not a good idea. He didn’t seem like he would have patience towards crying babies.

Marr uncrossed his arms and sighed. “You are right, Cipher. Rebuilding upon the ruins laid down by Vitiate is demotivating, exhausting even. His power grows with each death... It is perhaps time for a change of our methods.”

She allowed herself to chuckle lightly. “Is that why you need me to recover quickly?”

He made a dismissive wave of his hand. “That was a polite thing to say regarding your condition.” His voice lowered to a throaty murmur. “You have an important task at hand here, Agent. I know it may take time, but we can’t afford to have a traitorous Zakuulan Prince on board.”

“It would benefit no one if he didn’t turn out to be our ally,” she added with approval. “I doubt Valkorion or Arcann would greet him back home with arms wide open.”

“Remember that he hasn’t betrayed his family. His presence here is purely circumstantial.”

She nodded slowly, thinking back to the time she flew the Zakuulan shuttle out of the Spire’s hangar bay.

“I brought him here,” she reflected over her memories. “It’s my job to make sure he stays.”

*

She gave herself time to prepare and clean up before leaving her room. The medical droids tended to the twins after they had had dinner and she kept a surveillance monitor with her in case they needed her attention. Wearing loose black trousers, a clean gray blouse and some slippers, she walked out of her room and stepped in front of the guards. They straightened their backs when she was near. When was their last rotation again? Tayleen felt sorry for them, when they could spend their time doing something more productive.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” The gray helmet panned slightly towards the other guard before the trooper hesitantly asked, “and how are you?”

“Good,” she smiled with surprise. No one seemed to dare bother her about the twins, or about anything. “Thank you for asking. I’d like to visit Thexan now and I’ll try not to be too long. But if I need assistance I’ll let you know.”

She was growing more considerate of the grunts that had sacrificed their lives to wear the Imperial armor and give meaning to their existence. She thought of her three new friends from the Knights of Zakuul and how she should pay them a visit, and hopefully broker a deal for their release should they choose to join the Imperials.

But what of the one who had sacrificed himself to save his brother? She held her breath when knocking at the door. Sometimes, she felt a pit in her stomach right before meeting with someone even familiar to her. Maybe it was one way the Force spoke to living things and she didn’t know how to heed that call.

She looked through the glass pane and saw Thexan walking unsteadily from the far right side of the room. There was a viewport, and she saw it now that the blast shields were lifted. He seemed to have been sitting there before answering the door.

“Hello,” he said, smiling awkwardly.

“Hello Thexan,” she spoke back, giving his room a quick visual inspection. It was spotless. “May I come in?”

Stepping aside, standing barefooted in black loose trousers and a gray tunic, he welcomed her inside and she headed for the viewport, drawn by the stars and the sight of the distant galaxy spiraling ever so slowly.

“This is the best room in the ward,” she complimented.

Thexan went back towards it and sat on the sill, picking up the datapad he’d left there. “I apologize for not coming to visit you today. Lord Marr sent me some Imperial literature that I’m reviewing.”

Tayleen stretched her lips to a smirk and sat beside him, holding her own device that displayed her twins in the live surveillance feed. “I understand, babies are boring at this age anyway.”

He let a burst of chuckle escape him. It was nice to see that it didn’t hurt.

“You will be a great mother to them, Tayleen.”

The statement made her scrutinize his grayish eyes and a hundred questions bumped inside her head. Mother. She recalled the story of his own mother and how it had shaken him just to tell it. There was none of that emotionality now.

“I- thank you,” she replied. “But I’m a work in progress.” She dropped her gaze to his hands as he held the datapad over his knees. “Which book are you reading?”

“Galactic Strategies: the Sensible Use of Intelligence and Sith conquests to Absorb Power through the Living Force.” He made a stern face before pinching his lips, his eyes betrayed him.

“You’re messing with me!” She elbowed him. “It’s Marr’s essay on Vitiate, then.”

He acquiesced and put the datapad down beside him. “I had already seen the reports on Ziost when it was destroyed but it’s interesting to have a pragmatic view of the cause and consequences.”

If Darth Marr was one thing it was exactly that: pragmatic.

“He values your judgment,” Tayleen thought out loud, “or seeks to analyze you in his own way... I recommend not giving bad notes on his creative work.”

“But improvement starts with disappointment,” he countered with a pedantic tone.

“He is a Dark Lord of the Sith, Thexan. I think he is well above the shame of disappointing anyone.”

He elbowed her back, “I know. I was doing an impression of my father just now.”

Unaware that she was staring agape at him, she scoffed and tried not to rejoyce too loudly at his positivity.

“I’m glad you spared me from seeing him. Valkorion.”

His grimace was of stiffled pain for a fraction of a second before he crossed his arms lightly pressing a hand on his stomach. His throat gulped down before he spoke.

“It’s nothing. You weren’t even supposed to be on our ship, and I endangered you more than I was of any help.”

“I would have been worse off had it only been Arcann to find me on Berith.”

The right side of his face twitched. He breathed in sharply before turning towards her but keeping his eyes down.

“Would you forgive him?” he asked quietly. “If he was here, on our side... would you accept his apology?”

 _On our side_. Those words would have brought a smile on her face had she not suddenly felt repulsed by the thought of his brother, the ghost sensation of his hand on her neck and his mouth bruising hers. She frowned sadly and balled her fists over her lap.

“Thexan... I don’t know. You can’t expect me to forget and hope something like this can never happen again. I’ve lived with the fear of sexual assault my entire life, and it was my worst nightmare while detained on your ship.” She watched his face decompose with horror. She shrugged and patted his shoulder. “Do you really think Arcann can be redeemed?”

His head shook slightly. “I don’t know.”

Silence filled the room barring the calm humming of the air conditioning.

“What about Valkorion? Would he accept negotiations?”

“You’re talking about a man who dethroned a god, built an infinite fleet and destroyed myriads of worlds in the name of greatness.” His voice was throaty and bitter. “He never once held a discussion with neither Arcann nor myself. You were right, by the way.” Restraining his sigh he looked straight at her. “We are slaves to him. Worthless pawns that deserve no recognition. And now there is only one left. I wonder how Arcann can stand his silence now.”

“You said he wanted to kill Valkorion...” She felt like she was treading on dangerous grounds.

Thexan pressed his back against the transparisteel glass of the viewport, touching his head to it with a thud. His attention seemed to be drawn to the ceiling until he closed his eyelids.

“Without me around, I hope he doesn’t try again.”

Her scar itched and she didn’t want to rub at her waist in such a bad timing. She needed another diversion to tear him away from dark thoughts.

“Have you decided what to do about Marr’s offer?”

His brow creased and he scratched his left ear. It seemed he kept to a strict regimen of facial grooming and there wasn’t a hair longer than the others on his scalp. She noted a redness around his ear and waited for his response.

“I feel that Marr’s interests are not compatible with your intentions for me, you and Lord Skordus.”

She shifted her position upon the sill to better face him curiously. “What makes you think that?”

“Darth Marr wants me as his secret weapon, whereas you consider me your friend.” He paused, smirking as his eyebrows lifted. “Friends can’t be easily discarded when used up, and weapons don’t have trust issues.”

She liked the comparison, and attempted to play along. “Which one would you rather be?”

His long thoughtful silence almost discouraged her to listen. Thexan clung to the sill and looked at his toes. His feet were bony and his toenails were short and clean. She shook her mind off of staring at his body parts.

“I would like to be your friend, obviously, but... I wouldn’t want to come between you and your-” he interrupted himself and consulted her. “Are you not married?”

She made a cynical face. “What difference does it make? Just so that you could call Essan my husband? I wouldn’t mind, and I’m sure he would approve.”

“Oh, fine.” He cleared his throat. “Your husband seems to know more about us than even I do...”

Straightening her back at the observation, she inquisitively pierced him with her glare.

“What did he tell you?” she snapped.

“Really, Tayleen,” he insisted, his cheeks were growing pink. “This is not relevent to the matter at hand and I don’t want to be the source of trouble.”

“Speak, _now_ ,” she commanded, “or I will have you change diapers for a week.”

His expression took on a new shade of disgusted. “That is quite the compelling threat.” Again, he scratched his ear. “Your husband said you cared about me... a lot? I thought that was a strange thing to say, coming from him.”

Sitting completely still she felt her eyeballs drying from not blinking and her jaws began grinding.

“You’re confused,” he continued upon seeing her blank face. “I’m terribly sorry for mentioning this...”

He started to get up on his feet that she grabbed his sleeve at his wrist and pulled him down again. Thexan obediently sat and gazed at her with surprise.

“He’s right, you know? I do care about you - as a friend. I do like you _as a friend_ , Thexan. And it counts just as much as any feeling a person can have for another.” She breathed in and tried to keep her voice steady. Her lips felt tingly. “I don’t have romantic relationships, not even with Essan. He is there for me, and I’m grateful for it though it’s hard to express it sometimes.”

And then she felt her throat lock up but she swallowed down her fears and her hurt pride. Thexan only deepened his interest in her story, uninterrupting.

“He knows what I feel, better than I do myself. He keeps me centered.” She blinked to chase away the blur in her vision. “I’m glad he told you that.”

Looking somewhat rattled, Thexan meshed his fingers as he rested over his knees.

“I’m glad he did,” he nodded. “It’s hard for me to comprehend these things. I should apologize for my callousness at times.”

“As should I,” she rolled her eyes to the gray sterile floor. “I rarely bring down my defenses, yet they easily shed when I’m with you.”

“Oh.” His shoulders braced and he hesitated to turn towards her. “Maybe we shouldn’t spend this much time together, don’t you think? Because I feel the same way. It’s-... It isn’t right.”

She folded her arms over her fresh scar and bit her lips under the pain, that same sensation he probably felt, and a growing need inside her core blocked all other thoughts and reasoning.

This wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t unnatural or unexpected. The Thexan she knew was kind, handsome and his story was tragic. Most people would find themselves drawn to him from compassion alone. Even Essan felt sympathy for him despite her being captured and her home destroyed. And Darth Marr had handed him a rare opportunity to redeem himself.

She couldn’t take that away by abusing his trust and letting go of her inhibitions, only for a fleeting moment of pleasure. She smiled and steeled her heart.

“We know what’s best for each other, don’t we?”

He arched an eyebrow, his expression puzzled. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Tayleen shook her head and pensively drummed her fingertips on the viewport sill.

“I need to know exactly what you would need from me in order to be a functioning member of our... faction.”

He was sent into a deeper state of reflection before he could answer. “I only need closure. I-” he rubbed his palm over his mouth and chin, “I never got to say goodbye.”

“To Arcann?” she inquired, he nodded. “That won’t be possible... he needs to believe you are dead.”

“That’s the point, though. If I were really dead he would feel it. My father would know it.”

She felt backed up against a wall, unable to counter his logic. “What about the dark side?” she attempted, “I’ve heard of Sith being able to conceal their presence from the Force.”

Darth Jadus came to mind. She wondered where he was, when the galaxy was being bled and the Empire was dying.

His eyes were closed as she was asking her question, his voice was grim. “It makes no difference. My father’s power is beyond the light and dark. He sees everything.”

“Everything?” she repeated with worry. “So, he knows about me. About _us_. Why didn’t he do anything about that?”

Thexan widened his blue eyes suddenly, locking his jaw. His father truly terrified him, she deduced from his behavior every time they talked about Valkorion. She stood up when Thexan walked away from the viewport, as if he could feel the reach of his father’s influence from far away in space. He leaned over the night stand and picked up the holocom. His face was harsh, with an almost robotic intent and purpose.

“I have to talk to your husband, Tayleen. You’ve done far more than enough for me.” His forehead softened and he tried to smile though he was still shaken. “I will see you another time, my friend.”

 


	10. Wild Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for M-rated content. 
> 
> ...But also some happy-sappy moments with the crew companions!  
> ...Lana gets her first speaking part in this story!  
> ...Thexan gets new stuff!

 

The airlock was left open so it was no surprise when Essan heard footsteps coming from the entrance. He was in the cargo hold, sorting modification items on his workbench and was reminded with mild annoyance how he couldn’t sense the person entering the Fury.

But he had invited Thexan to come aboard on his own, and he hoped the prince would be wearing the black cloak he’d had sent to his room that morning.

The steps rang closer as the man walked across the lobby and down the few steps to meet him. Essan turned from his desk and Thexan was standing at the bottom of the stairs, pulling back the hood from over his head. His black armor and tunic was stitched up and fused together with black mesh where there used to be a lightsaber cut. Essan had tried different materials when working on the Zakuulan royal garment and salvaged fabric from a Knight’s armor.

Essan shook his head in disapproval. “That still looks wrong.”

There was an amused veil over his face. Thexan cautiously closed in. “Thank you for having these sent over.”

He stretched out his left arm, inspecting his sleeve and half-glove. It was only five days after he had been wounded and left for dead at the foot of his father’s throne. Essan patiently stayed silent until Thexan would pay attention to what he was working on.

“I came to realize that you were in need of a weapon,” he explained as the human took interest in the parts scattered on the workbench. “These are the spare parts I’ve collected over the years. You may use this room at your leisure, if you want to.”

“That’s... very generous, Lord Skordus.”

He tried to ignore the formality of his tone and went towards his tall storage cabinet. “Right.”

The items he’d collected during his ventures around the galaxy were gathering dust and piling up in the Fury’s cargo hold. Each container held hundreds of thousands worth of credits in various equipment, from armor parts to weapon attachments, craft schematics, minerals and diverse materials. Pierce would call that room the crazy person’s hoarder’s nest. Essan simply viewed it as his all-purpose stash of things. Every member of his crew could benefit from having everything at hand’s reach.

The tall cabinet contained Zakuulan laser spears, a decommissioned war droid, some cloaks and valuable armor parts. He kept the masks in sturdy cases and the body armors were piled in layers over layers. Most of them had battle damage but not so much that he’d want to trash them into space.

“You keep quite the collection,” Thexan commented.

“These trophies aren’t live, though.”

He checked over his shoulder to see if his provocation had hit home, but Thexan only folded his arms together, his lips stretched in an unimpressed smirk. His blueish eyes looked dark and gray in the dim light, they were directed towards the equipment. Essan pulled out one set of plating that seemed to fit him. It was of a muted, dark silver color and the matching mask was in its box on a shelf above.

“Sith armor,” Thexan commented.

“I’m sure you’ve seen them before,” Essan muttered. Korriban came to mind. He refused to start ruminating each death caused by the man standing behind him. He picked up the box, and placed it on top of the armor on a nearby container. “Take the time to get accustomed to it. It’s probably more comfortable to wear than your Knights’ golden plating.”

Thexan inspected the box, opened the lid and his brow creased at the sight of the mask. His expression made Essan want to laugh.

“It’s an Acolyte,” he remarked. “I- I can’t wear this. People will think-”

“People will think you are my apprentice,” Essan finished for him. “It’s the right way to have you around without raising suspicion.” He directed a thumb to where his own chin was. “And Tayleen happens to _like_ this mask.”

Utterly confused, Thexan was visibly trying not to react disapprovingly. “You sure know how to sell this.”

“I have nothing to teach you, Thexan.” He kept his Force sensory awareness up, and this time he let go of his control of it and allowed himself to be blind to him, only for a moment. “Only listen to me when I say that it’s going to take time before you can freely walk among Imperials without anyone trying to kill you. Even for a regular old Sith, each day is a blessing when they get to go to sleep unscathed.”

“Being royalty didn’t make my life any easier,” Thexan humbly said. “Father had Knights and assassins ready to ambush Arcann and I at random times to keep our wits up.”

Essan found a climate-controlled suit and took it out of the cabinet. “I’m sure those Knights and assassins knew they wouldn’t live long if they succeeded in their attempts on your life.”

Pressing an arm across his midsection, Thexan took time to reply but there was no grief on his face. “True. That’s probably why I didn’t see the last one coming.”

This time, Essan chuckled and closed his storage to turn back at him with a pair of black boots.

“This is your size.”

“How do you-... Never mind.” He grabbed the undersuit and the boots. “Thank you for this, once again.”

“Gear up,” Essan told him, heading out. “Then meet me in the cockpit for that talk.”

*

The purple crystal floated in the air, above the galaxy map and in front of the stars visible from the hangar bay. It spun slowly on itself, shimmering subtle hues under the lights of the cockpit. Essan pulled the focus crystal to his hand and brought his feet down from the console when he heard steps beyond the door way.

He looked like one of the rivals on Dromund Kaas who had tried to provoke him in a gratuitous duel. He swore for just a second that the masked man in his sight would begin to snicker and point at him accusingly, calling him a coward for walking away from a challenge.

The mask came off as Thexan reached up and threw the hood in his back. He didn’t seem pleased and started fussing about the pointy ends of his knuckle guards getting caught in his cloak.

“Good,” Essan told him, idly turning the crystal between his fingers. “Now I feel like we can agree on something.”

“Like the lack of fresh air in this thing, or the terrible vision?”

“Have you at least connected the power line to your collar?” Essan retorted, tempted to throw the crystal at his face.

“I did, but it looks like the batteries are dead.” He checked the electronics inside the mask and looked back at him, cocking an eyebrow. “What kind of crystal is that?”

Leaning back again, Essan resumed his position of lounging his feet over the console, pocketing the crystal in his belt. “It’s a power crystal. I used it briefly when acquiring new weapons on Alderaan.” He was now saving it for Zherrys, when she would be older but he didn’t care to share that information with him. “You won’t need it.”

“I’m still wondering why you would trust me with a lightsaber this soon,” said the Zakuulan, walking towards the copilot’s chair.

“I will know when to trust you once you’re confident and able to actually betray us,” Essan replied, watching him navigate his codpiece and thigh plates as he tried to sit down. “Don’t mess around with- okay, stop. No.”

Thexan was blushing and cussing between his teeth. Grinning behind his mask, Essan leaned forward to pull on one of the fasteners behind Thexan’s knee. The plates were attached too high and collided, jabbing his groin when sitting. After the fix, Thexan could rotate the plating on his legs and sit properly.

“Thanks...”

“So as I was saying,” sighed Essan leaning back into his seat, “I wouldn’t be giving you all of this if I knew you were unstable.”

His blue eyes looked dark as the sea floor on Manaan as they searched the stars outside the viewport before setting on him. “I still need to make amends for everything I’ve done. So far, I wasn’t made to pay or suffer for the invasions. Where is the justice in that?”

Essan studied him with care, drawing on his patience and letting him know how irritated he was that Thexan concealed himself from the Force. There was a purpose to that, to preserve them all from the vindication of Valkorion. And the cost was constant suspicion from his new allies.

“No one can bring back the lives you took and made to destroy countless others. The body count is still running, the galaxy has only begun showing symptoms of the cancer that is your empire.” He breathed and couldn’t refrain from making a grimace of scorn. “You speak of justice when all you’ve done so far is displaying the power of one at the cost of the many. Would you rather we have you executed or tortured for eternity? How do you fancy losing one piece of flesh for every day the Eternal Empire is attacking a new system?”

Thexan, defiantly yet accepting, held his gaze before lowering his head.

“A piece of me died on Korriban,” he coarsely told. “I lost my brother. And he lost me in return.” His mouth twitched nervously. “I have lost everything I believed, everything I cared about. Had it not been for Tayleen I wouldn’t be alive and here to speak about it.”

“You _know_ how none of that absolves you from your past,” Essan growled, assuming a more dominant posture in his chair. He wanted to stand and choke him, but he physically felt pity for Thexan. “She didn’t bring you here to mope about your pathetic existence. She wanted revenge. She wanted survival.”

He couldn’t shake the memories of seeing her holographic image hiding under a refresher sink, speaking in hushed tones to him and Marr. He couldn’t for the life of him forget the sleepless nights in his quarters, crying himself numb and wishing to crush every Zakuulan being to puddles of blood until he could see her again.

And Thexan’s reaction was nothing but blank, and this time he could sense the rage. He could sense the anger and the pain. Essan had made it personal by mentioning her.

“My father has to pay for what he’s done,” he fervently said. “But his power is immense, it would take months if not years of preparation to end his reign.”

“We know that, Darth Marr knows that. We couldn’t riposte without losing everything we have left. Those are the stakes right now... So I am asking you: are _you_ willing to sacrifice everything?”

He could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

“Only my life,” he said. “No one else’s.”

Essan held his gaze on him, wishing he could stop the tremor in his teeth. Wishing he could use him in some theatrical way to get Valkorion and his other son to yield and surrender. But Thexan was dead to them. Waving away the galaxy map, he brought up his confidential computer access login screen and typed in his password. Thexan watched intently when a video file was brought up from a secured transmission. Sith Intelligence had intercepted the broadcast no later than that morning.

The holo-image showed Zakuul, a grand plaza in a very public setting. Tall buildings dwarfed the pedestrian sky-walks. Hundreds, thousands of people gathered around a ceremony with Valkorion, Arcann, and an unknown woman in dark robes presiding. They bowed their heads at a rectangle container circled with crowns of flowers and medals. There was no audio but anyone could guess this was a funeral. The memorial plating read an inscription saying Prince Thexan, son of Emperor Valkorion, had perished during battle in the Core Worlds.

Leaning upon his knees, the very alive and breathing Thexan had his eyes brimming with tears as he saw the video and his mouth twisted into a frown. The image stopped and froze before fading. He was hating it, Essan guessed. All of it, the pompous ceremony, the blatant lie on the stone head, the sight of his mourning father and siblings. Because Tayleen had told him about that sister called Vaylin. He hoped there wouldn’t be any more of Valkorion’s offspring to watch out for.

“Your life is meaningless unless you do something of it,” Essan softly explained. “I will not accept your sacrifice.”

They couldn’t afford any more losses. He had tried to get that idea into Marr’s head about the retaliation plan, about not pursuing Zakuul so promptly and to let things stew while they regrouped and gathered strength. They needed more support from across systems. But the more they waited the more Valkorion advanced and gained momentum in his conquest of the galaxy. They needed a new approach and he was convinced that Thexan was the key.

The man rubbed his gloved palms over his face and took a deep, mournful breath. Watching one’s own funeral was a rare occurrence, and unless you paid for that sort of psycho-analytic simulation, there was nothing quite like the real thing. Essan gave him a moment.

“They want the people of Zakuul to believe I’m gone,” he whispered to himself. “They’re lying. They... killed me off.”

“What difference does it make?” Essan interrupted his emotional complaint. “It means you have complete deniability. Whatever you do now, no one can claim it was Thexan, the once-believed-dead son of Valkorion. This is a gift.”

“They would still hunt me down, because my body is missing from the Spire, along with the three Knights and Tayleen...” he looked up with a clear sense of panic. “They know everything about her. About you. We must relocate.”

“If they did want her dead it would have happened long ago, don’t you think?” Essan felt his heart ache and he swallowed his gut-wrenching fear. “I am always going to worry about her, fear for her and lose my mind over it. That’s my responsibility. But I believe it’s also her choice to live the way she wishes, and I respect whatever she chooses. _Whoever_ she chooses to protect her.”

“Wh-” he stuttered, hesitant to look at him, “what are you saying?”

Leaning forward, Essan extended his arm, grateful for his protective mask and voice filters to straighten his hoarse tone. Grateful that Thexan couldn’t see the tears on his face. Thexan held out his palm and the purple crystal fell into it. With surprise, Thexan clutched it closer to him before raising a doubtful look.

“You will give this to Zherrys when she’s old enough.” Essan stood up, unable to stay sitting. His neck ached and he needed to get his mask off. “This is your purpose, Thexan. You will protect my family while I lead the assault with Darth Marr.”

“I can’t possibly accept this...”

“You can and you will.” He cringed with anger, looking down at this poor excuse for a man, insecure because of his failures, broken and submitted to the idea of an unforgiving parent. “Get up,” he groaned, “before I change my mind and break your neck.”

Thexan’s bewildered expression changed to apathy, then acceptance as he followed him. “Why not trade places? I should be there to face my father, to attempt negotiations?”

“Marr would never trust you, and I know that would never work,” he throatily answered, going into his cabin.

Thexan stayed at the door while Essan went into the refreshers, letting the door shut behind him while he pulled off his mask and gloves to clean up his face. The need for crying would have to wait another time. He heard Thexan’s voice through the bulkheads and over the noise of running water.

“You know this operation is going to fail, don’t you? Why even go through with it?”

Essan rinsed and toweled himself until dry enough to put his mask on again. He went into his cabin and let out a drawn out breath.

“Because the only other option would be to make a grand show of how you aren’t dead. How we captured you, humiliating Zakuul, your brother and your father. How we’re about to extract every single ounce of knowledge from your brain using invasive methods. That would be such a display of victory, and undeniably there would be repercussions. We don’t know what else is next on your father’s mind. He could be planning it already and it needs to be stopped. Somehow.” He paused to steady his trembling right hand, closing it into a fist. “But not at the risk of losing everything.”

Stern, jaw tight and shoulders braced, Thexan furrowed his brow. “We still have time to plan. I can work with Sith Intelligence but throwing yourself recklessly at my father - at Arcann - would amount to nothing.”

Essan bit his lip, slightly amused at his combative attitude. “This isn’t about me.”

His expression changed again. Oh, how easy it was to read him after all. Essan walked passed him because he wouldn’t budge from the door, and headed for the airlock.

“I suggest you get working on that lightsaber.”

*

The Phantom was in the next hangar, an easy few paces brought him aboard and he smiled, hearing voices speaking softly and a joyful mood filled him. None seemed to take notice when he came in the lobby, but he recognized Vette’s giggle and saw Pierce trying to look over the shoulder of Lokin while Vector was holding Ceyrin in his arms. Tayleen was sitting in the middle of the semi-circle sofa, fixing the blanket around Zherrys as Kaliyo was smiling with her dark lips, looking amazed while she held the baby girl. They were quietly chatting about which planet was best for them to be raised on, which toys each of them would get as their first birthday present, and what type of education they were going to need.

Tayleen crossed eyes with him, and her beaming smile faded gradually. Essan couldn’t retain his emotion as he held his breath. _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry..._ And she calmly stood up to join him. Everyone took turns looking back at him and she held his gloved hand, softly drawing him away from the attention.

She was wearing a black and gray outfit of trousers and a sleeveless shirt. Somehow other colors never seemed to suit her. It was always dull and uncomplicated.

“How did it go with Thexan?” she murmured in the hallway between her quarters and the cockpit. The crew were still chatting amongst themselves.

“He does terribly with heavy armor,” Essan told her with a patronizing tone. “But otherwise, he is on board.”

She pouted her lips and tilted her head sideways, longing eyes looking straight through him.

_What have I done?_

“Come,” she said, taking his hand in hers to move back to the lounge area. “I want you to be a part of this.”

Standing in place, he hadn’t the heart to be among lively, cheerful people even if they were the most familiar persons he’d ever known. Even if that meant spending one last happy evening with his family. But Tayleen gave him a judging look, that one look he had first experienced when they were on Belsavis. He was no better than anyone just because his work had more impact on the galaxy.

She held his hand all the way to the couch where Vector left his seat for him. Pierce was now ogling at Ceyrin over his crib, making strange faces and trying to get the baby to laugh or smile. They shared jokes about vomit and stool, and Tayleen made Essan tell about the birth, since he was the only one awake to witness it.

“You don’t have to tell all the details,” Vette said, shaking a colorful lighted toy over Zherrys’s crib.

“Fine,” Essan began, “Ceyrin was first to come out, and I wasn’t expecting it because well... You don’t get color on sonograms, even the holographic ones. It was really strange seeing such tiny hands moving and crawling out of this.” He pointed at Tayleen’s now almost flat belly and she playfully punched his knee. Everyone laughed for no specific reason.

“Are you having a go at me right now?” she snapped.

“Well, you were under a large sheet of green paper,” he defensively replied. “I was in shock, and it was easy to let my mind run. Anyway...” Another bout of laughter and Tayleen shameful hid behind her hands. “I blacked out when the medic cut off the umbilical cord.”

“Too much gore for you there, eh?” Pierce jabbed at him.

“A lifetime of battles across the known galaxy will do that to you.”

“Well, now I guess I’m never getting pregnant,” Vette commented, shaking her blue lekku.

Tayleen comically frowned with regret. “I don’t recommend it. Ask Doctor Lokin to make a clone for you.”

Her humor was a direct hit and Lokin almost blushed. “I might specialize to a new field then, Agent. Twi’lek genetically hybrid breeding.”

“Sure,” sarcastically approved Kaliyo. “And I suppose you’ll want a bigger lab? I’m not becoming your assistant.”

“Come on, love,” Pierce said, drawling each word. “We could have you aboard the Fury. Plenty of room there since we kicked out the crazy chick.”

It felt like a ten-ton freight container fell upon the lounge and Essan eyed him from his seat.

“It’s unfortunate, but if Jaesa were here she would probably enjoy this little reunion.”

“Or she would try to strangle us all simultaneously,” Quinn contributed very seriously. “I, for one, am glad she wasn’t invited.”

“Shh!” Vette dramatically interrupted. She whispered, loudly. “Don’t speak of Jaesa so often or you might summon her!”

They all laughed and even Essan let out a chuckle. Ceyrin woke up suddenly and began whimpering. Vette came over him before Tayleen had to stand, using the glowing mechanical toy to distract him and spoke to him in soft, high-pitched tones.

“Speaking of unwanted guests,” Lokin asked, turning towards Tayleen, “when do we have the honor to meet your special rescue from Zakuul?”

Apprehensive but calm, Essan leaned backwards and rested an arm over the headrest behind Tayleen. She hesitantly eyed him before giving her answer.

“Thexan is still adapting to his new environment, but I’m sure you’ll get to know him soon enough.”

“The fleet will move to a different location in Wild Space,” Essan told after her, “hoping to track down Valkorion’s next move. We’ll leave Thexan out of this operation for security measures. The best place for him is here, among us where he has no choice but to be part of the crew.”

“It’s a family,” corrected Vette, looking up from the crib. “And I agree. If he’s as decent as Tayleen says, I don’t see why not.”

“What about you, my Lord?” Quinn asked, arms folded with concern on his pale face.

Essan drew air in his lungs. “I will be Darth Marr’s second in command. Those among my crew who wish to volunteer will assist the Terminus and protect the fleet as much as they can. But someone needs to show Valkorion that we mean business.”

Tayleen’s look was of sadness and she silently implored Essan. He wished from the darkest depths of his soul that she would be alright and not suffer the pain of separation for too long. He let his arm drop to her bare shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly. She leaned into him and a few smiles grew upon the crew’s faces. Others looked down at their own boots.

Kaliyo cleared her throat, arms crossed. “I suggest we hide on Hutta. Or Quesh. With those smells no one would dare to stay more than two minutes looking for us.”

“I would rather go to Alderaan,” Vector said, serene. “But that’s my personal preference.”

“No, thanks,” Pierce chuckled. “We don’t want the kids to grow up to become rich, spoiled brats.”

“What about Manaan?” Tayleen said. “It’s secluded, peaceful and neutral. And Sith Intelligence already has headquarters there.”

There was a moment of puzzled hesitation before Vette shrugged, “I wouldn’t mind. But it’d get kind of old after a few days.”

“Kind of?” Kaliyo retorted. “I would get bored out of my own ass.”

“Maybe I could come over to entertain it,” Pierce grinned.

The merc rolled her eyes at him. “Well, that’s my queue. It was a nice little get together, Tayleen. G’night everyone. I hope I don’t see some of you any time soon.”

They began parting ways and Vette was last to leave, talking to Tayleen about the supplies she needed to take care of the babies. The two women seemed to get along quite well, to Essan’s relief, and they began planning her move onto the Phantom as soon as possible.

Taking the children’s cribs into her quarters, Essan joined Tayleen as she got ready for bed. It was late, and the twins were fast asleep.

“We’re leaving in three days, if all goes to plan.”

She eyed him cautiously and shushed him. “They’re very tired,” she whispered. “If they get no sleep they’ll be cranky tomorrow.”

It sounded like something he’d experience as an adult. He smiled but hesitated to reply when his mask was augmenting the volume on his voice. Accessing his electronic settings, he deactivated the vocal amplifier and his natural voice now sounded slightly muffled.

“I’d stay over but I have more work waiting.”

“That’s fine,” she softly murmured, looking over the bed and finally sighing. “I’m actually tired myself. But... if you get lonely and want to talk, call me?”

He tilted his head sideways and nodded, pleased at the idea. “I just might.”

The nagging sensation in his head and chest made him focus on her lips, her perfect, sleepy eyes and the sound of her breath when she stepped just close enough to reach for his mask. She left her hand where his cheek was supposed to be, and diving his stare into hers he waited, however she did not remove any item of clothing, no piece of armor. Her mind was troubled, her Force presence reflected that with dissonant vibrations that could hypnotize him if he wasn’t mindful.

“What are you trying to say?” he quietly asked.

“I wish time would stop. Can you do that with the Force?” she waited for his response but he had none. “Can you tell me if you’ll ever come back?”

Unable to fight the twitch of a sob, he shook his head and reached for her, closing his arms around her back. She grasped at him and circled his waist. He wanted to take his mask off and kiss her for as long as he could hold his breath, but as soon as he began pulling it away she grabbed his wrist.

“Keep it.” Her eyes were wet but stared strong up at him. A shiver shook his spine when she whispered again. “You don’t have to say anything.”

She directed the palm of his right hand down along the curve of her hips.

“Tayleen...”

She hushed him softly, she slid beneath the waist line of her trousers and led his gloved hand over her belly, brushing past the slight jut of her scar and the heat was undeniable. He breathed harder as he tried not to press against the C-section, but she was now panting and encouraging his fingers to work between her thighs. Despite the thickness of the gloved tips, he could make sense of the different folds and dips, exploring blindly as his index slowly slid around her sensitive areas. Tayleen was grasping at his left arm, pressing herself even closer and parting her legs as she stood on her toes. Essan’s mind ran wild, and his heart raced not knowing where this was going, inebriated with the sound of her pleased sighs.

The angle at which he had his arm down her tight trousers made his wrist ache. She whimpered as he pulled his hand out, black gloved fingers shining with wetness, and he had her sit on the bed while he pulled on her boots to begin undressing her. She unfastened the buttons on the side of her leggings, yearning for him to resume his care, and he slid them down her legs. He pulled them off almost too hurriedly as he stopped his gaze upon her navel and the wide, swollen incision that curved along her abdomen. He had seen it when she had her bandages changed before, but in this context it almost froze him. Tracing a thin, feminine finger over it, tantalizingly biting her lower lip, she then pushed the edge of her gray underpants that were darkened at the base.

Unable to resist the invitation, Essan sat on the bedside chair and slid his hand back inside her garment, letting a groan escape him when she closed her eyes and parted her lips. Heat rose in his armor as his body reacted to the sight of her. Easing herself on her side, she brought one knee up while she laid her head over her elbow, staring at him and smiling intermittently as her body gently rocked. He did nothing to try and push inside of her, aware that she was still healing, that any kind of penetration would risk an infection and slow her recovery. He desperately wanted to make her feel this good for as long as possible, to make her forget all of her troubles. She deserved so much better than him. She needed to enjoy her life... with someone at her side.

The one person she admittedly, undeniably loved.

The mere thought of letting another replace him as Tayleen’s romantic caretaker made his mind burst with unexpected ardor, hastening the strokes of his hand against her and she moaned aloud, touching his wrist as if to steady his pace - but he kept going. Eyes shut tight, her knees closed together to trap his hand and he felt the spasms of pleasure that made her body twist and arch intensely. She held her belly where the scar was and he worried about that, but only for a second. He kept caressing her, panting in turn and responding to each jolt of her hips. Amazed at the way she’d let herself go to passion, even while their children were sleeping nearby, he brought his hands up to remove his mask, instantly filled with the smell of her sex on his glove before he bent over to kiss her. He no longer cared if she could taste the salt of tears on his lips, nor did it matter if she could hear the sobs compressed in his throat. All he knew was that they were together in this moment, even though soon enough he would leave her.

And she would be okay. He had to be at peace with it.

Tayleen caught his lower lip between her teeth, holding his face to hers and hungrily kissing him until her breathing slowed and she looked deeply into his eyes. Essan lowered his gaze, unable to stare at her knowing that it was the idea of him that she loved, and pushed against the pillows to straighten and recover his calm. Tayleen sat up, dazed and still effected, to look down on herself before pulling off her undergarment now stained and useless.

It was too much. He turned away as she dropped her wet panties on the floor and brought herself under the sheets, and he was making his way to the refreshers. He badly needed to void his bladder and clean up.

When he returned she was holding up a datapad over her head, her face illuminated by the blue light of her screen. He smirked and went to pick up his mask on the chair. Tayleen smiled back and rested the datapad against her breasts. She slowly blinked and bit her lips.

“Good night.”

Once again wearing his mask, he pulled the black hood over his head and lightly touched her extended hand.

“Good night,” he replied and the rest was kept to himself, but he thought it no less.

_...my love._

 

*

The Terminus was stationary in Wild Space, hanging in the void between the farthest stars scattered across the vast distances of the edge of the galaxy. A blue nebula filled the entire viewport, contrasting with the dark and red interior of the flagship.

Essan climbed the stairs up to the bridge, joining Darth Marr as he was brooding with his hands clasped in his back. He hadn’t slept much of the night, coordinating units with the Councilor and strategizing their assets. His mind was still muddled with the remnant thoughts of Tayleen, his children, and the preparation of Thexan for the events to come. He didn’t want anything to go by the wayside just because he’d neglected to talk to someone out of fear of making a mistake, or from the assumption that they’d know what to do.

But he had full confidence in his crew and he already knew Pierce and Quinn had the Fury under control while he stayed with Marr to prepare for battle.

This was going to be the most reckless, if not the most suicidal attempt at survival he had ever lived.

“You’ve summoned me, Lord Marr,” Essan eventually said, losing patience.

The Dark Councilor stood motionless in front of the viewport and bitterness filled the deck as he began to speak.

“For decades I have been fighting and slowly rebuilding the strength of this Empire to return it to a semblance of dignity. And now I am reduced to hiding the remnants of a broken fleet, cornered and so thinly stretched that no hope could give us the motive to carry on.” He turned towards him and his armored shoulders dropped. “Such is the dire state of my accomplishments. But they shouldn’t mean to be the end for all of us.”

Essan worked his jaw trying not to let himself be overcome with grimness and stepped a little closer to lower his voice at Marr. “What are you trying to say, my Lord?”

He was close enough that he could hear a hiss coming from beneath the black and red mask.

“The last days of my studies and meditations brought me a somber vision for the Empire. While we thought we had suffered the worst of this war, there will be even more losses. Even more pain. Whatever we sacrifice today will amount to nothing.”

He had felt it, too, the lingering hum of a death that lurked but never took its strike. The itch of a slowly progressing disease that never revealed itself in a definite form. Essan drew a breath and held his arms across his chest.

“Vitiate.”

“You have sensed him as well, Wrath. I wasn’t sure of what I was feeling as I was cultivating the power of the dark side, but-” Marr paused briefly, hesitant as he lowered his head- “ever since the birth of your children, bringing new life aboard this ship, the feeling became clear as day. As if the apparition of newborns had upset the presence of something malevolent.”

“And it grows within every thought and nightmare among the crew,” he continued. “It feeds on our fear and despair. It may be giving Vitiate too much credit, attributing this phenomenon to his work, but we have to assume that something similar may be occurring.”

“Or, we may be more affected by this war than we care to admit,” Essan tried to argue. “Valkorion leads a psychological war on top of technological superiority and numbers. The Sith Empire used to be that way, so we’re not used to being on the receiving side of it.”

Marr appeared to be turning the thought in his mind. “Your rationalization does not help in advancing our case, Lord Skordus.”

“What do you want me to say then?” snarled Essan. “That I will practice active-dreaming until I convince Vitiate to devour himself out of sheer narcissism?”

It took him by surprise, and he swore that never in his life he would have seen Darth Marr laugh. The Dark Councilor chuckled in his mask, shaking his head in disbelief. Essan smiled, feeling somewhat serene amidst the hopelessness of their situation.

A set of footsteps progressed towards him and he turned to see Lana Beniko approaching the deck. She wore her dark green tunic and black under armor. Her blond hair almost appeared white in the darkness of the ship. She arrived and stood at attention with her back straight, gloved hands clasped in front of her. She spoke with the chill and calm that Essan had always known her to use. She rarely raised her voice outside of combat.

“We managed to track the Eternal Fleet’s prior positions according to Thexan’s estimations. We’re on the right path to encounter them.”

“If this collaboration continues,” Marr said, “we will need to assign him an actual title and proper identity. Whatever the outcome, our records will make history and the truth will transpire if we aren’t cautious.”

He was thinking ahead about the aftermath of the war, when it would be time to rebuild and repay the damage caused. Positivity gained back some grounds but Essan didn’t want to fool himself. Even if Thexan turned out to do good by them, his past still made him a war criminal.

“He hasn’t been concealing his face as you instructed, Lord Skordus. At least, not in my office. I took care to ask him to put the mask back on before he left the door.”

She kept her eyes on the viewport and never dared looking right at him. Essan thought it was an unnecessary precaution.

Yavin 4 was months in the past, he thought she would have moved on by now.

“Has he expressed any sort of criticism towards our tactics?” he asked her.

“There were several points he did not fail to correct in our plan,” she replied, raising an annoyed pale brow. “He has asked a complete rework of our approach, judging our intentions harshly... I personally think he is sabotaging us, my Lord.”

Essan turned to tower over her with the familiar gut feeling associated with anger as he retorted. “How has this detail not seem important to you, Lana?” He used her first name, aware of how belittling it made him sound. Aware that the whole floor could hear him. “Maybe think about leading with that.”

“I am telling you _now_ ,” she defensively replied, still composed and calm but rage was building in her eyes. “If we allow him to interfere in our plans we may not succeed at all.”

“Lana has a point,” Marr commented, his deep voice putting a stop to the argument. “Contrarily to you, Darth Skordus, she doesn’t share your blind faith in the prince. We will accept his input only if it is wise and overtly beneficial to us.” He turned his black and red mask towards her. “I want a detailed report. Have him send his analysis directly to me and without delay.”

She bowed her head and turned her heels to leave, not without vengefully eying Essan.

He waited a heartbeat before following her, leaving a short distance between them until he could safely and non threateningly close in on Lana when she was near the elevators.

She kept her face straight and unwavering, waiting for the chime before entering the cabin. He expected her to roll her eyes when he joined her in the elevator, but she was completely neutral. Cold, unaffected in appearance but her blood was boiling.

The cabin dropped smoothly as it lowered. Crossing his arms, Essan waited for a reaction from her part. It was as if she held her breath.

“I won’t take the bait of whatever you think will make me upset,” she muttered. “Maybe I was hoping to have your support regarding this operation. It turned out that I was wrong.”

“I supported your efforts to work with Thexan,” he calmly replied. “It turns out there was a limit to that.”

“You only want him on our team because you think it would hurt Valkorion.”

Oh, how she was far from the truth. He could congratulate himself for that. The elevator stopped and the doors parted to the twelfth level, where the briefing rooms and and tactical engineering happened. The Sith Intelligence office was at the end of a long hallway. He waited until they were near the door to give his retort.

“You are grossly mistaken on my account.”

She finally looked at him straight on. “Perhaps you should share some of your insights with _me_ instead of the son of the enemy.”

“Everything he knows comes from you regarding the battle plans.”

He watched the door open and she stepped in first. It was a large war room and three different offices that the Sith appointed to research and military assets stayed there, to read, study and compile reports of the more secret aspects of the war on Zakuul. They headed for one of the doors.

“I’ve had him work on naval schematics all morning,” Lana said before hitting the door’s opening switch. “It seemed to be a better use of our time.”

When they entered the smaller office they saw the large holographic display of a Zakuulan frigate, and Thexan was sitting in a chair, leaning backwards with his chin in his ungloved hand. He barely shot a look at them when they came in. Essan turned to Lana, hands propped on his sides.

“You locked him in?”

She scrunched up her face with irritation. He’d always found her soft, child-like features rather amusing in the context that was her line of work.

“He did that himself.” She went to inspect the schematic and used the console table to review the different layers of data transcribed on top of the three-dimensional map. “We now have security measures, personnel locations, vulnerabilities all compiled in our records. This is vital information we couldn’t have obtained before months of risky covert ops.”

Essan looked at Thexan who was silent and deep in his thoughts. Lana was trying to ignore him and only wanted to give the Wrath a piece of her mind regarding the question of trust.

“While we have him on our side, this is the kind of help we need. _Not_ for having our motives questioned and the morale crushed for the sake of one man’s better judgment.” Her eyes were like fire when she laid them on the former prince. “While I would like to trust you, Wrath, I fear that you’ve unleashed the most dangerous weapon in the heart of our Empire... or what’s left of it.”

Upon those words Thexan stood and gathered his mask and gloves from the edge of his desk. As he turned, Essan saw a silver-hilt hanging from his belt.

“Lord Skordus,” he began, stopping in front of them, his icy blue eyes resting a mere second on Lana. “Lord Beniko... If I may be so bold, I’d like to have a moment with the detained Knights who helped me survive. It’s been over a week. I owe them that much.”

Essan nodded and gave Lana a short gaze. “Naturally. Lana, have a copy of the revised schematics sent to me as soon as they’ve been backed up.” He went towards the door, motioning to Thexan. “Walk with me.”

Once Thexan was fully concealed in his Sith attire, they stepped out of the Sith Intelligence wing. Operatives and officers barely raised their eyes to look at them: all they could see were two tall men wearing black cloaks and fully covered in armor. Essan’s outfit was more complex than the one Thexan was borrowing. From salvaged pieces to augmented tech imbedded in plating, Essan also privileged carrying capacity with many pouches on his belt. At the moment, they contained more baby wipes than battery packs.

He let Thexan walk to his right on purpose to better study the newly built lightsaber he carried.

“I should apologize,” he began, his soft voice filtered by the mask’s electronics, “for any resentment Lord Beniko may hold against you because of me. I’m aware that my presence is disruptive.”

They were going through a lot of stress. “If she has anything to say to me she will get that chance. I hope my crew accommodated you to the Fury last night.”

“They weren’t rejoicing but I managed to sleep in the medbay.”

They went into the elevator and Essan picked the detention block in the level selection.

“What’s to become of the Knights?” asked Thexan.

“I can see to their release and reinstatement to Imperial ranks for their protection, so long as they don’t do or say anything to incriminate them.” He let a second pass before adding, “my prerogatives are limited, but the Imperial judicial system is even more crippled by crooks and narrow vision. If you should talk to them, make that clear for them and insist that they should swear allegiance to Darth Marr.”

The elevator kept going down and the silence seemed to be the weight that drove it.

“Shouldn’t you be the one telling them?” he asked, the mask hiding his puzzlement.

Essan shook his head. “They’re your people, and they still worship you as their prince. You don’t need me to coach you through this.”

The walls of security guards, Imperial troopers and detention droids equipped for torture let them walk right through the gates and Thexan was easily directed to the cell where his friends were kept. Essan stayed at the front desk. The officer who sat there pretended to be absorbed in her computer terminal, and he spared her the added pressure of his gaze as he waited, arms folded. He plucked the datapad from his belt and consulted his messages: the crew’s congratulatory messages for the twins were still saved in his inbox. He wondered if he had to tell anyone else about the news, perhaps some ally who was secluded enough, who certainly would never betray the information to his enemies.

He decided it wasn’t worth the risk. He knew nobody who would be happy about learning now that he was now a father. His relatives were gone decades ago. He had never had friends before becoming Sith...

His thumb stopped over Tayleen’s name. He blinked and let a moment pass. The page turned and he used his stylus to begin writing.

 

My dearest Tayleen

You probably know this already, but to me it feels more real in written form.

 

Footsteps hitting metal floors interrupted him and he watched Thexan coming back from the block, slouching slightly but regaining composure as soon as he saw Essan. Packing his datapad, he walked him out to the elevator again.

“They’re uneasy with the idea,” explained the Zakuulan, “but they agreed to join the Sith Empire.”

Essan nodded and deeply breathed in. “I will have their release forms submitted shortly then. They will be a considerable aid to our infantry training.”

He pressed a different button and the elevator went down again. Thexan folded his arms, intrigued.

“How do you so easily forgive your enemy? They- _we_ have killed so many of your men and women, and that doesn’t phase you?”

“It _phases_ me greatly,” Essan bitterly correctly, “and I’m glad to hear that it actually affects you, too.” He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling fatigue eating at him. “I’ve done my share of torture and punishment for the good of the Empire. Look at where that’s gotten us. We are divided, broken and desperate.”

The cabin stopped finally and he let Thexan take the first step out. The level was almost deserted, dark and empty.

“Where are we?”

“Sith training halls.”

His masked face scanned the vast, tall and intimidatingly wide space meant for sparring. The only light came from rare spots in the ceiling and the wide bay viewport with the few visible stars of Wild Space.

Eventually Thexan walked towards the center of the room, his gait was hesitant and he turned around. Essan stood ten paces away, lightsaber hilt ready.

It needed to happen.

He had to be _sure_.

Unmoving and radiating doubt, Thexan started with a few deep breaths. “I thought-”

“-I was going to let you walk around with a weapon,” Essan interrupted, “and not test your skills in combat?”

Thexan took his silver hilt in hand and ignited the lightsaber. It blazed with crimson light and hummed as steadily as any finely-tuned laser blade. His stance was defensive, his Force presence fading into nothingness. Essan ignited his own weapon and began approaching. He stepped casually in a circle, giving a roll of his wrist to loosen up. His equally red blade spun with a sound that had grown pleasant to his ears. He emptied his mind; there was no more Eternal Empire, no baby twins, no Tayleen. There was only the darkness and his opponent.

And all that he sensed was the void where his presence was supposed to be. It would make this far more difficult than he’d planned.

Thexan did nothing, but he was still slouching and he waited. Essan initiated the first attack, slow at first but not so much that he would let his defense open. Thexan held his saber low privileging movement so as to avoid most of his strikes. The Force seemed to carry his weight more than he was putting his feet down, unencumbered by the heavy armor. Essan found himself having to take a defensive stance when his attempts at breaking through his left him vulnerable.

But Thexan was holding back, he knew it. Essan feigned an attack then spun himself, switching stances to catch him by surprise with a full front strike. The other man’s mask was inches from his.

“This isn’t a game,” he snarled when they locked blades, the crackling noises almost covering his voice. “You need your strength back, Thexan.”

He heard a grunt as Thexan pushed on his weapon, giving him a spare fraction of a second to extend his left arm and project a wave of Force power. Essan felt his lungs compress and the floor was far below until his back hit a permacrete wall. He thought he heard cracking, but it was the clash of his armor plates and his teeth knocking against each other. Without thinking, he tossed his weapon, intending to keep Thexan on his toes. The spinning blade flew towards him but he batted it away with his own lightsaber. Essan Force-grabbed his weapon to retrieve it, leaping across the wide hall through combat instinct alone, and his weapon was ready to strike down Thexan as he landed over him.

Side-stepping the attack, Thexan attempted a slash at his back, Essan parried over his head and waited for the next try and Thexan stood on his left leg to spin and his back was left open.

Essan knocked the air out of him with a kick. His attunement to the Force synchronized with his decisions, allowing him to comfortably seize the opportunity as it presented itself. Thexan’s right hand, the one holding the lightsaber, came swinging backwards but he was falling forward from his surprise attack. Essan caught the wrist left-handed, twisting it and the joint locked, loosening grip of the weapon. Catching it mid-fall, he took a more secure handle of the new lightsaber as Thexan rolled forward to end up resting a gloved hand upon the floor.

He did not get up.

Essan spun both lightsabers akimbo, cautiously walking towards his opponent. If it was a trap or if Thexan was biding his time, he didn’t want the fight to take an ugly turn.

Thexan was panting and he heard his distressed breathing when he got closer. Still cloaking his Force presence, he couldn’t tell if the fight was over or not.

But Essan held both weapons now, deciding the sparring had ended and Thexan was defeated by standard rules. He deactivated them and held them both in his left hand. With his other, he reached down. Thexan raised his head to look. He was holding is midsection, still breathing painfully.

“You fought well,” Essan told him.

Finally, he caught his arm and let Essan help him up. He hadn’t expected him to weigh this much, and had to steady him until he could stand on his both feet by himself. No Sith would have tolerated such weakness. Essan held him by the shoulders, shaking them until he would look at him.

“Listen to me, Thexan,” he spoke, his voice hard yet calm. “The pain won’t last. You can fight through it.”

Sighing coarsely, he shook his head. “I can’t... I can’t.”

His left hand pulled off his mask, dropping it to the floor and his lowered face was covered in sweat and tears, eyes shut tight.

“You have to,” replied Essan, hoping with all of his heart that he wasn’t wrong about him. “Because if not... we’ve already lost.”

He was tempted to use a slight wave of healing power to ease the agony, but that wouldn’t help anyone.

“I’m...” Thexan finally met his gaze, hesitant to open up. “I’m not sure I can face my father and brother again.”

They would destroy him without a second’s thought. He had become a liability to them, a thorn in their backs. It would be wasteful to use him so soon in a foolish confrontation.

“Your task is here, among us,” Essan corrected. “With Tayleen.”

Almost holding his breath, Thexan raised his blue eyes at him with shock. “What...?”

Essan straightened his back and held up his lightsaber. The hilt was simple and functional, with straight edges and a series of horizontal vent holes along the igniting end. He handed it over, and Thexan took it back slowly with uncertainty on his face.

“You want me to protect her,” he guessed.

Essan nodded and tried to unlock his jaw. “She can protect herself. I need you to do more than that.”

His eyes widened and his lips parted to speak before closing, and he shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s wrong,” he took a step backwards. “She is yours.”

“She belongs to no one,” Essan quietly told him. “But I’d want to know she won’t be alone when I’m gone.”

Crippled with doubt, Thexan ran a hand over his face and head, to finally scratch the back of his ear.

“Then you can’t leave... What about your children? They will need you.”

Essan smiled but his mind was blackened with gloom.

“It wouldn’t matter if I’m dead. My ties to the dark side would only bring harm to my family. You, on the other hand, have known what it means to fight for your kin, despite who you were fighting. And you’ll know better than to repeat your father’s mistakes.”

He tried to ignore the tears that rolled down his face, too distracted by his own. He placed a hand over his shoulder again, directing them towards the elevator to head back to his ship.

“Do you need a medic?” he opened up a belt pouch and prepared a kolto shot.

Thexan winced and put his mask back on. “I’ll be fi-”

He groaned as Essan jabbed his side with the injection gun, right between two armor plates. He smirked at having successfully taken by surprise the son of Valkorion.

“We can’t have you limping around Marr’s flagship.”

“Thank you,” he hissed in reply. “I think I’m starting to understand the price of all this generosity.”

It was like the old saying, or something Essan had heard before but failed to remember exactly how it was said. Changing someone or something’s existence meant taking responsibility for the rest of their life. He convinced himself it was the right thing to do.

She would understand.

 

 

 


	11. The Escape

 

The twins were each lying in two intensive care units, with monitor wires running from their sterile containment beds. She stood in the room with her arms folded tightly and her eyes swollen with worry. Heart rate beeps were the only sound in the medical room. Staring at her children there was no hint, no clue to understand what was going on, except that their health was as risk.

Behind the protective glass to allow for non-intrusive observation, only close relatives were allowed and the Imperial troopers made sure no unessential personnel had access to that hallway.

Tayleen came out of the intensive care room and let out a painful sigh. He didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t know if being there was appropriate.

But she had asked for him.

“Essan was here earlier and he’s gone investigating,” she rasped, wiping an eyelid with a finger, clutching a crumpled up tissue in her hand. “They had a fever last night, and they wouldn’t eat anything this morning. Zherrys kept throwing up...”

Thexan’s neck was tensing. “What did the doctor say?”

“They detected a slight heart condition in both of them, something they didn’t see in prenatal exams. It can be just a consequence of the fever but nothing’s certain.” She sighed and touched her palm to her head before folding her arms. “It could be a result of the intermixing of our species.”

“Tayleen, I’m...”

What was he going to say? That the pregnancy had been interrupted because of him? That he was sorry?

She kept her eyes on the children. Her concerns was light years away from his peace of mind.

“What can I do?”

She shook her head, reaching to her black jacket on one of the seats facing the glass.

“I can’t stand around waiting to see what happens,” she bitterly answered, “and I can’t just leave them.”

His grasp of medicine was rudimentary at best, let alone pediatrics and heart conditions and birth defects... What if the cardiac development should have been closely monitored in the last stages of the pregnancy, then what was the extent of the damage her stay on the flagship could have caused? Was there even a cure, or did they have to go under surgery? What was the rate of success to operate on twins of inter-species breeding?

Head spinning, he needed to sit but Tayleen had brought her attention back to her children and he felt oddly out of place, more so than per usual. He hadn’t eaten that day because of the stress that was building up ever since the training room. He could sense the danger approaching. He felt the oppressive hand of fate clutching his throat and squeezing each breath ever so tightly.

They were getting close.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he began, “but I think I know what Essan is investigating.”

“You can go to him if you need to,” she said without moving her head. “What he does, why he does it... It’s beyond my understanding.”

“Your children are sensitive to the Force and its imbalance,” he tried to explain, uncertain of how she perceived his tone and he wanted to sound compassionate and not patronizing. “I fear it won’t get any better.”

Her face changed from upset to aggravated and she finally looked at him. “We should have seen this coming.”

Nodding, Thexan kept himself from stepping back at her furious gaze and took a deep breath.

“But this is the first time newborns are on board a Sith flagship. They could have been born on Zakuul, where much worse would have happened then.”

He saw her jaw line moving slightly but her dark lips were still sealed. At least her piercing eyes were softening slightly. Things could always be worse. Soundless images of his funeral came back to his mind’s eye like the remnants of a bad dream.

Except that he hadn’t been dreaming.

Tayleen eventually took place on the seats and he closed in, stopping at the last moment. She turned her head up to him and looked at the neighbor chair beside her. “It’s not going to bite you.”

The way she raised her blue eyes made him hesitate, painted eyelids blinking slowly with lack of sleep implicitly questioning his behavior. Thexan took the seat next to her and forced his mind to focus on the twins... On the darkness that seemed to be consuming all feelings and hearts.

That ominous presence-

“Thexan,” she softly spoke, interrupting his trail of thought, “I know it’s not a good time but you should know I still am your friend. You can tell me anything.”

Guilt ate at him and indeed, it wasn’t a good time to start making this day about him.

“Aside from the fact that I was responsible for your torment last month, and that all of this could have been avoided had it not been for me and my family... I don’t know what there is to say.”

He heard her breathing deeply and she crossed a leg over the other.

“I forgive you. There’s no need to dwell on that.”

“You’re right,” he said, then chewed on the inside of his cheek for a short moment. “I could use a cup of caf, would you like one?”

Batting her eyelashes at him, she stretched her arms and meshed her hands over her knee. “Sounds good. I haven’t slept and it’s going to be a long day.”

Relieved to be of some use, Thexan picked up his mask and gloves before leaving the intensive care wing.

It was strange, to slip into a different persona every time he moved around the flagship, accentuating the fact that it wasn’t _his_ flagship and easing himself into that new identity. Crew members and coalition troops stopped and saluted as they saw him, more out of caution than true respect, only to start whispering when he was many yards away.

He stopped by the medbay’s small cantina to pick up the caf from a dispensing machine. It smelled fresh but Thexan had had better. The following device offered warm pastries and he decided to risk it. Holding a tray in one hand, he put a few credit chips in the slot to obtain the breakfast food and stopped at a condiments table for what passed for cream and sweeteners. This quality was below par for him, having had entire buffets of delicacies when he lived on Zakuul.

None of that mattered anymore and just being able to smell anything felt like a gift. He had deactivated the filters in his Sith mask’s control settings. He was able to see and hear much more than he’d apprehended, only feeling restricted by the inability to touch his own face when he felt an itch. When he returned to Tayleen he saw her dubious look at him when he approached, fully covered in armor and she held his gaze through the mask, sending out her sympathetic feeling of familiarity yet her smile was bittersweet. She nodded and thanked him for the caf, grabbing the plastic mug and nestling it in her lap. Thexan took another seat and placed the tray of food between them. When the mask came off she lingered her eyes on him.

“Something wrong?” he asked, pulling off his gloves to begin eating.

“I’m curious to know,” she began, “how do you and Essan get along?”

Unsure, he pondered which specific moment he could channel when thinking about his interactions with the Wrath. Smelling his caf, he opened the lid to add sweetener.

“He is very paternal with me,” he answered, ending with a smirk. “And on several occasions he insisted that I should be at your side when he’s absent. I hope that he’s spoken to you about it... I still feel uneasy about the idea.”

He set down his cup and placed a hand over his other. The tremors were coming back. He tried to bite his lips without looking like he was afraid to say something else. He wasn’t muting himself. He had nothing else to say and either way, she could tell when someone was hiding something from her. She was a spy, for Scyva’s sake.

He hadn’t realized he had avoided looking at her when she spoke back. “He’s been distant with me since last week.”

The words cut threw him with their coldness and how dryly she just stated the fact. It could be the stress, the imminent war and the darkness that engulfed everything, everyone... His attention went back to the twins sleeping on the other side of the glass pane. When was his caf ever going to cool down? But then again, was caf really that wise a drink to take when he was this tense?

“I’m sorry,” he apologized for many things but certain of nothing. “I hope I didn’t cause that.”

“I caused that,” Tayleen rectified, her voice going even softer and pitching higher. “I was always distant with him since the beginning because, deep down, I knew this day would come. Even if I do have feelings for him they could only be for a time.”

He turned to see her face and expected her eyes to be shiny with tears and they were narrow and sad. No tears. No sorrow. She seemed to focus on his joined hands. Taking a sip of the caf she appeared to stall her confession.

But he had sensed the gut-wrenching pain and heartbreak with each time Essan would mention her. The Wrath meant to protect Tayleen when in reality he was the one feeling hurt and forsaken. The mask did nothing to hide his vulnerabilities, it was no match to the type of mask, while invisible and very much nonexistent, that Tayleen wore.

“I-” he paused and heavily leaned backwards, “I do not wish to interfere with your affairs. I have great respect for the both of you, even though I fail to understand how you have accepted me as your own.”

“There may be nowhere else for you to go,” she said, point-blank. “Essan and I agreed we could trust you. There’s no malice in you... and I told him that you supported me from the day we met.”

His heart jumped and he tried not to stare too intently, averting his gaze to look at the wall behind her, or her shoulders, or her hands around the paper cup. She was her anchor outside of Zakuul, away from the Fleet, and far from his brother. She had woken something in him that forever uprooted him from the world he knew.

But it had cost them so much.

“Have you told him about... when Arcann-”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It would drive him mad. I’ve never seen him fight, not in person, and from what I’m told his control is what allows him to survive. He needs to stay frosty.”

“Hence...” the distance, the constant avoidance. The mask she claimed she liked better than to have him remove it in her presence. He doubted even his own children had seen his real face. “I’m beginning to understand your dynamic.”

She nodded. “You’re allowed to say it.”

He veered his attention away and looked at the tip of his boots. She was using Essan. When he breathed in he realize he had been keeping so still he’d forgot to even fill his lungs.

His father had used his mother, and in the end she had abandoned them all.

Sadness seeped into his mind and also betrayal. As he turned to talk to her, Tayleen had begun closing her mind and receded into isolation. She drank her caf and nipped at pieces of pastry. He remembered her hands as slim and slender but now they looked bony and blue veins protruded through the orange skin. For her to have denied herself in order to favor her children, he imagined there would have been many other areas that were neglected.

“You want him to stay alive for his children,” he finally said, “even at the expense of your relationship.” His eyes and ears began to hurt. “You can’t neglect each other. I can sense the affection you two have for one another and I understand, against my better judgment, why you would want to sacrifice that.”

He encouragingly grabbed his sweet pastry cake and took a bite, munching until he would feel hungry enough to finish the food. He rinsed down the flaky crust and juicy filling with now lukewarm caf before biting another section of the pastry. It wasn’t so bad considering how it was made.

Now with both hands busy he no longer felt himself tremble and he could use his connection to the Force to extend his awareness to the whole ship. There was a dense pit of concern towards the command deck. Darth Marr had been deeply disturbed by the resurgence of Vitiate’s presence and was now exploring the vicinity for him.

Thexan, while he hadn’t taken part in the endeavor, had a bad feeling about this.

Tayleen put her food away and stood to tiredly look at her twins, arms tightly folded against her breasts. He was too preoccupied with what he was sensing to ask her what went on in her mind, feeling an imminent urgency, a danger so vast it was out of grasp and yet already here...

He startled at the chirp of a comlink. Tayleen’s comlink. She answered it with a dull voice.

“I’m listening.”

“Get the children to safety,” pressingly said Essan. “Get on the Phantom and prepare to evacuate _now_.”

“What’s going on?” she rushed into the room and panic was on her face. Thexan followed and she began opening the incubator-like vats. “Talk to me, Essan!”

“They’re here.” There was a chilling pause. “The Eternal Fleet. They found us.”

Thexan picked up Ceyran while Tayleen was wrapping Zherrys in her blanket. “We’re close to Zakuul,” he attempted to explain, going out the door and grabbing his mask and gloves as he pressed Ceyran securely against his chest. The poor toddler protested and whined, his pale face gone almost white.

Tayleen ran behind him and they were followed by the Imperial troopers when reaching the elevators.

“Proximity alert with enemy crafts,” said one of them. “We’ve been ordered to escort you to your ship, Ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she hurriedly said and they pressed the express mode on the keypad to get to the hangar bays.

She and Thexan exchanged a worried look. Her eyes went to the mask and gloves he hadn’t taken the time to put on. She motioned to carry Ceyran and gave him free hands to get fully armored again.

“Go to him,” she said as the elevator doors opened and the troopers urged her out. “I’ll be waiting.”

He couldn’t protest her decision that she was already running with both twins in her arms, the troopers making way for her to move securely across the hustling and emergency procedures of personnel jogging in every direction.

The Fleet was here. Thexan slowed his breath and straightened his back. Lightsaber in hand, he marched towards the elevators that would take him towards command.

Sirens blared to signal hull damage and lights flashed red. They were breached. Security systems all came on high alert and troopers scrambled to the breached zones.

Tayleen. She was still on this floor and the hangars were vulnerable.

He rushed back through the level and the air had taken a distinctive smell of ozone and burned metal. Screaming could be heard ahead. Using his activity radar, he could locate the boarding pod and it was a hundred meters away from him.

Skytroopers were shooting and troopers took cover to fight back. It played out in his mind like a simulation, one of the many virtual replays of destroyer ship invasive tactics he had watched during his many years of training. They stood out with their white-silver armored casing and no blaster bolt seemed to dent their shields. They had selective targeting, prioritizing key markers such as stature, political importance and popularity.

But he no longer was their superior nor their ally. As soon as they spotted Thexan they began firing at him. With the Force to support him, his lightsaber deflected incoming fire and he progressed rapidly towards the droids. He projected his will to crush one droid against the boarding pod, slashed the head off the closest skytrooper and the third was still firing at him in vain, only to have its own blaster bolts reflected and hitting its targeting system. The droid stumbled backward and Thexan cut it in two. The charred pieces fell at his black armored boots. He spun his lightsaber and stood at the ready, took a deep breath and barely registered the burn across his abdomen.

“My Lord,” said an unmasked trooper with the Republic emblem on his shoulder pad, “there are more droids towards the hangar bay.”

He gave him a nod and wasted no time before heading straight to where the Phantom was docked. As the trooper had warned, skytroopers had invested the docking level and were shooting at everyone. His breathing was rapid when he scanned the floor for familiar bodies, all wore black, all were wearing helmets except a few officers and techs. The droid were caught unaware as he ran his blade through them, sent the lightsaber flying across the hall to eliminate two at a time. A fifth skytrooper shot towards him, thirty paces away and paused to reload. Thexan extended his hand, fingers crooked and the Force took hold of the droid, crushing its internal parts until it shuddered and broke into pieces without being physically touched.

Beyond it was the hangar bay. He passed the locked gate with the aid of his powers, unlocking the security fence, and strode up to the Phantom. The loading ramp was up and he could see movement through the canopy.

Bringing up his comlink interface, he set to contact Tayleen and she took a moment to reply. The person inside the cockpit waved at him. He couldn’t make a specific face or silhouette.

“Are you safe?” he asked.

“Yes, we heard what was going on.” Her voice sounded crystal clear inside his headset communicator.

“Listen,” he said sorely, “I’m going to get Marr and Essan.”

“Please be careful.”

He headed back towards the hallway, lightsaber still ignited. “If things get out of hand you need to take off. Don’t wait up.”

“No. I outrank you here, Thexan.”

A volley of blaster fire flew across his field of vision and he spun his lightsaber to shield himself while getting back to the elevator. “And I helped design these droids, Tayleen. I developed the Fleet’s tactics and I know the Terminus won’t hold much longer.”

“How can you be making excuses right now?” he heard her protest through his internal audio. “I’m not leaving... I owe it to Marr.”

He took a left turn and grabbed a skytrooper’s left robotic arm, threw his weight into the pull and slashed his saber across its chest. An Imperial officer stumbled as he startled right around a pillar and Thexan caught his elbow, pulling him back to his feet.

“Tha-thank you, my Lord!”

“Get to the escape pods!” he shouted, hoping other crew members would hear him over blaster fire and explosions. “Avoid the main hallways, keep cover.”

He fought dozens more skytroopers, some barely coming out of their pods, provoking fire and smoke. His protective armor allowed him to keep fighting and the Force elevated his senses to avoid incoming attacks. Fighting droids - _his_ droids - was far easier and more predictable than dueling Sith and Jedi. It only took five minutes to reach the deck.

They were at the command center, lightsabers withdrawn and both turned with surprise as they saw him. The entire craft shook and was beginning to fall apart around them.

“We must evacuate,” Thexan said, pointing behind him. “The ship won’t hold much longer.”

Essan strode towards him with purpose, filled with such anger that Thexan almost held up his weapon but he stayed his hand. He sensed more than he felt the steel grip on his neck, and he thanked the added layer of protection there, or else his throat would have cracked. Essan, the lord of the Sith who had become more of a friend to him, shoved him backwards. Thexan stood his ground, determined to bring them back alive.

The silver mask was the mirror of his own, but the voice was nothing but a roar.

“I told you to stay with her.”

“She won’t leave,” Thexan replied, “unless I bring you back with me.”

The warning siren blared again saying the Terminus was suffering critical hull damage.

“Listen to me,” Thexan continued from the bottom of his heart. “You must save your people or you will lose everything.”

The Wrath finally recovered his temper and took a step back. He turned his hooded mask towards Darth Marr. The Dark Councilor was staring at Thexan.

“You’ve felt it, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Thexan sighed. “It’s Vitiate.”

“Then you must bring the children as far away from here as you can, as fast as you can.” He exchanged a look with Essan. “I will order the evacuation and remain on board. Lord Skordus will go with you.”

“I’m not running from this,” protested the other Sith. “We can still make this count.”

He went to the central computer and brought up the battle map. “Here’s their flagship. We still have operating engines and navigation. This is our shot.”

“No, it won’t work,” Thexan interjected, “simply because the fleet does not need a flagship to funct-”

“It _has_ to make a difference, we’re not dying in vain.”

“Think of Tayleen!” Thexan shouted, hands balled into tight fists and his shoulders shook with emotion. “If you die, she is lost. Do you understand?” He caught his breath and stepped closer to the terminal to keep him from making a rash decision. “She put everything aside so you could survive and help us save the galaxy. We can’t do it without you.”

Darth Marr stepped between them. “Enough of this!” arms extended, he then clenched a fist and directed towards the entrance. “Thexan, evacuate the ship. Even with no hull we still have a running chance to salvage the situation. The command deck will be sealed for last resort measures.”

Thexan wanted to toss his mask away and spew out his rage and his plead to make them come to their senses. But he stared at Lord Marr, this powerful Sith, second only to his own father the Emperor Valkorion. The Force radiated through him with determination and the strength of a cosmic event. Unlike his father, Marr brought out his own qualities in those around him, drawing forces from all borders of the galaxy, friends and foes alike.

Out of respect, Thexan kept his mask on, and slightly bowed his head but kept eye contact.

“Tayleen promised she wouldn’t abandon you,” he told the Sith lord.

Voice softening, Marr lowered his gaze upon him. “Now it is you who must not abandon her.”

Torn between his loyalty to Tayleen, and his instinct to fight and stay beside his fellow warriors, Thexan was frozen in place, only able to move and look at Essan when his heavy hand pressed on his shoulder. The look they exchanged was wordless - faceless - but the Force tied them with the power of understanding, trust, and the awareness only two kindred spirits shared when brought together in the midst of chaos... He held his breath, mouth agape.

He never thought he would feel that bond again.

“Go, Thexan.”

And so he ran. He fought off the skytroopers converging on the deck and tremors were so violent that entire floors were collapsing. The newly built lightsaber was perfectly balanced and the red crystal was powerful enough to withstand the energy of many blaster bolts simultaneously. He clashed his boots to kick and punched into metal with his protective gear, and if he’d had the leisure of time he would have been amazed at the sturdiness of the Sith armor.

It took far longer to reach the elevators now and they were barely functioning. For a moment that seemed to last for hours, he believed he had failed everyone. Luckily he only needed to go down two levels.

He had to climb over rubble and corpses to progress towards the hangars. The escape pods were still flying out of the Terminus, there were so few of them left.

His comlink chirped. “Thexan?”

“I’m heading back,” he spoke into his mask, whirling his lightsaber forward to decapitate a skytrooper. He caught his weapon again and decided to break the news. “Essan and Marr are staying. I couldn’t convince them to leave. I’m sorry.”

His stomach knotted and he finally got to the hangar bay. Sections of bulkheads had fallen around the Phantom and the loading ramp lowered as he approached, taking off as soon as he had both feet on the ledge and the ramp raised closed.

Holding the railing as the thrusters pushed the ship to take flight, he held his lightsaber in the other hand and met the shocked eyes of the Rattataki mercenary. Pulling off his mask he strode passed her and got to the cockpit where a blue-skinned Twi’lek sat at the controls, beside her was Vector Hyllis. His attention was drawn to the viewport: the Fleet surrounded them, oppressed them with the immensity of its numbers. Turrets were firing at allied starfighters and the flagship was in sight, right on their ten-o’clock.

“Veer right,” he told the pilot who happened to be Vector. “Stay low and jump to lightspeed on my mark.”

The Phantom’s engines growled as they changed direction and the Terminus was right above them, shielding them from view of the flagship. Thexan took support on the pilot’s chair and winced, having reopened the tear in his scar that was still fresh from the fight with Essan, two days before.

“Hyperspace route calculated,” stated the young Twi’lek. She looked up and her face was mournful. “Heading for Manaan at your signal.”

He wondered if Arcann was there, searching for him. Stalking him. He thought with grim paranoia that this attack was all his fault and he had brought death upon his new friends. He also began to ask himself if he had provoked this by launching the galactic conquest, massively taking lives and feeding the dark rituals of Vitiate without even knowing it.

The Terminus was breached on all sides and was taking heavy fire from all of the Zakuulan warships.

“Darth Marr’s flagship is about to give in,” the man with pitch black eyes said, alarmed. “We are in the blast radius, sir.”

It felt like the silence preceding a seismic sea wave before the thundering devastation took everything in its path. The Force was holding its breath before thousands of voices screamed. He looked at the woman with her hand just over the lightspeed activation switch.

“Now!”

The ship seemed to freeze in time and as it slowed, and with the quantum acceleration they perceived the last second that stretched for much longer and they saw fire was circling the viewport. The hull and fuselage of the Terminus shredded into pieces. Pure white energy blinded them just as the stars streaked into stripes in the background.

The Terminus disappeared from the Phantom’s radar.

It didn’t feel like he was failing for the first time. In the moment he realized they were in hyperspace and out of harm’s way, he feared he was going to get used to running.

Running from his responsibilities, his fate and his mistakes. When Arcann and his father had been so close, he chose to let others die in his place. It wasn’t like him. Was this survival, then? Where was the honor? Where was the glory?

He looked over at the blue-skinned Twi’lek and a tear was rolling down her face. She was close friends with Essan. He remembered her name was Vette.

“Darth Marr said the command deck could hold secure for a long time,” he murmured to himself, hoping she would hear. “That’s where they were when I left them.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, the young woman rose from her seat and stormed out of the cockpit, radiating grief and heartbreak. The other man left there turned to look at Thexan with the solid black pools of his eyes.

“We fear this day will be long remembered as the most difficult time we’ve had to go through.”

“We can’t lose hope,” he said, hanging on the fine thread of doubt in his mind. “They are still alive. I can feel it.”

Vector raised a dark eyebrow. “Only you would know, sir. We have no direct link to the Force, the hive connects through Joiners across the galaxy and it is not the same perception. But we trust your judgment.”

Leaving the cockpit, Thexan made his way to where Tayleen had gone, following Vector and letting the crew get accustomed to his presence. The medbay was a small room near the lounge and the medic was Doctor Eckard Lokin, a geneticist with a dubious past. The twins were resting in separate cribs, they had IV lines to be hydrated and their vitals were closely monitored with scanners. Tayleen was sitting between them, each of her hands caressing her babies over their blankets. It almost seemed intrusive to be there and watch as she was letting her tears dry on her face, caring for her sick children and the only medic was standing in the back of the room, using a microscope and pretending not to pay attention to him as he entered.

Everyone was setting aside their personal grievances to focus on more important matters, and he was there hoping - _wishing_ \- that Tayleen would look up and smile and thank him for saving them, maybe even take him in her arms. The last time she had held his hand he had felt weak and ashamed, nearly killed by his brother and rejected by his father for the last time. He no longer knew his place, nor who he was supposed to be.

So he sat there and waited, watched as she sadly hummed that wordless song to her children. That same tune he heard her sing the first time they met, aboard the transport that would bring her to his flagship from Berith. He watched her the same helpless way he did when she was in pain beside him and he had no idea what he was doing. It was too late to back out and find another place to stay and feel sorry for himself.

“The fever went down,” he heard her say over his thoughts. “As soon as we left Wild Space they started feeling better.”

He should have felt relieved. “And their heart condition?”

“They’ll need special care until we arrive on Manaan. They have the best medical facilities.”

It was true and he had studied the possibility of conquering Manaan. The planet was the only known source for kolto and despite the neutrality pact and many economic agreements with Zakuul, having free and unlimited access to the source was an advantage even Arcann would place high in his priorities.

He didn’t want to plague her with that just yet. He tried to think of something else to say.

“I couldn’t convince him to leave. He had made up his mind before I even reached the deck.”

Tayleen looked up at him, eyes wide with sorrow and she wiped her face with her sleeve. Her voice was soft yet stern.

“I know,” she replied.

“Maybe,” he hesitantly complained, “if I hadn’t been here for you, he would have come back and he’d be safe.”

Coward. He was nothing more. Trying to get an already grieving woman to cry over him and tell him that he mattered. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m going to see if we can contact Manaan prior to landing and negotiate some sort of asylum.”

He couldn’t have gone from the room any faster. He looked around the lounge area and saw a holoprojector, a mission terminal, the couch and table and he knew the only other rooms on the ship were occupied by members of Tayleen’s crew. Returning to the cockpit he found Vector again and this time the Joiner didn’t speak to him.

Thexan sat where Vette previously was and he clenched his teeth, holding his midsection as he groaned with pain. The computer terminal unlocked as soon as he touched the screen. Manaan was neutral, yes, but their conditions were intricate and specific to each faction they dealt with. If he presented himself as Zakuul then his brother and father would immediately be advised of his presence. If he impersonated a Sith, well... It wasn’t like the Empire was in a state to cross-check the activities of wayward Sith lords. He had a chance.

“You should have your wounds treated, sir.”

He tore his gaze off the screen to meet the black eyes of Vector. The man smiled kindly.

“We still have four days of hyperspace travel ahead of us. Manaan can wait before hearing our announcement. Besides, the Selkath owe the Agent a few favors. We are sure they will welcome us no-questions-asked.”

He accepted to be taken into the crew bunks to shed his armor from the waist up and let Vector apply kolto on his scar. Lying under poor lighting and the Rattataki woman making disgusted faces over the man’s shoulder, he had a clue the healing wasn’t going well.

“You’ve lost blood,” Vector calmly said, the disinfectant he used burned Thexan across the stomach. “And there is a mild infection. I strongly suggest you see Doctor Lokin for appropriate care.”

“I can’t,” he muttered, his eyes hidden under the crook of his elbow. He knew he stunk of sweat and grime from wearing the armor during combat. “He has better to do at the moment.”

“Like hell,” spat the mercenary. “You need to _shower_ first then we’ll see about that appropriate care.”

“Here is a wide spectrum anti-biotic.”

“ _Ngh!_ ”

The jab of the syringe caught him off guard and it felt like a punch in the gut. He fought to sit up and look down at the horizontal cut across his abdomen and saw the redness around the edges and the swollen bits where stitches ripped. The internal damage from Arcann’s saber had healed enough to allow for movement but the stress of combat was just over the line.

“We are no physician,” Vector said with unsettling confidence, “but we should advise you to refrain from strenuous physical activity for the time being.”

Hands propped to her hips, the Rattataki smirked and cocked a hairless eyebrow.

“Yeah, and that includes doing the dirty.” Her bright white eyes sized him up. “Too bad. Even with the funky smells I’d still hit that.”

Thexan tried not to let his face blush and he reached for his black shirt. It was unfortunately stained with his own blood and other bodily fluids. Vector tilted his head and took the garment from him.

“We would share our clothes with you but we are afraid they wouldn’t fit. Help yourself to our accommodations while we launder your clothes.”

Vector was thinner and slightly shorter. He regretted not having packed a set of spares and he missed his armor. His Zakuulan regal armor. It was tailored for him and suited him like a glove.

Now it was no more, destroyed with the rest of everything that was on board Darth Marr’s ship.

He spent a certain amount of time in the refreshers, scrubbing himself clean and hoping the warm water wouldn’t run out while the laundry machine took care of his fabrics. Stepping out of the shower cubicle, he saw that the cycle luckily was on dry mode. There was a mirror and sink behind him and he kept his eyes down for a moment, inspecting the cabinets and drawers for anything of use while he was there. He found a set of brush and clippers that he assumed belonged to the two other men on board. He wasn’t sure if he could borrow it from them so he renounced to groom his hair until they landed.

As he wrapped a towel around his waist, he accidentally looked and saw his brother, no- he accidentally caught sight of himself in the mirror. He always hated when that happened. Each line, each part of him right down to the tattooed markings, and even the sound of his voice reminded him of Arcann. The Arcann he had always known, the dear brother he loved and cared about. His other half, before the transformation.

Eyes reddening, he tentatively placed his right palm over half of his face on the mirror, hiding his eye, nose and mouth. What was left of Arcann was still there. He had to believe it.

He had to hope to see him again one day.

He put on his black undersuit and shirt before leaving the refreshers. The scar was still numb from the kolto and he was so used to the pain now he didn’t remember not hurting in that area. How long has it been? Two weeks?

“You wanna bunk with me, boy?” said the Rattataki, sitting with her knees hanging from her cot when he piled up his armor at the foot of the double bed. “It gets cold in space. And I can be warm and cuddly when the mood strikes.”

Letting out a breath, he tried not to appear too annoyed. People no longer worshiped him or bowed to him. He was no better than anyone and that took some getting used to.

“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

Snickering maniacally, she threw her feet on her mattress and folded her arms under her bald head.

“If you need company, just let me know.”

He put his neatly folded cloak on the far side of the bed and his mask placed nearest to the recharging port to maintain its batteries. He’d never shared a room with anyone after Arcann and him grew up, so he didn’t react and pretended he couldn’t hear. The only company he wanted was that of familiar faces that weren’t his own. He longed for the soothing sound of a caring voice that belonged to someone he’d grown fond of over the last month. He wanted more of the brotherly interactions that he was beginning to share with Essan.

The ship was beautifully calm and silent when everyone was asleep, and he waited until he was sure no one could find him wandering, barefooted and tired. He found a droid in the engineering room. It had feminine attributes and narrowed its yellow eyes at him before turning away, choosing to ignore him.

The central room of the Phantom was comfortable and the hum of the engine was barely audible. He walked through towards the cockpit and decided to sleep there. His awareness could stay alert in case the proximity sensors would detect something.

He dreamed of Zakuul, vaguely recalling something he was saying to the Exarchs during a conference or a briefing. Then he saw himself fighting on Berith and walking up to the little house in the middle of the woods where skytroopers were being shot. He then smelled something sweet and citrus and felt something warm on his shoulder. Tayleen. They were looking at the galaxy through the viewport of her diplomatic chamber, her hand-drawn star chart super-imposed with the actual stars.

“Thexan.”

He took a sudden breath and woke up reluctantly to see the blue whirls of hyperspace in front of him. He was sitting in the pilot’s chair, arms folded over his scar and he turned to see what was weighing on his shoulder. Relief washed over him as Tayleen looked down at him worriedly before attempting a smile. She had washed the paint from her face and she smelled of cleanliness and she wore a robe over her loose-fitting sleeping suit. She sat on the seat nearby, the one intended for the copilot and she crossed a leg over the other, barefooted as well.

_Stop staring at her._

“Sorry,” he said, his dry throat begging to cough. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

Her blue eyes reflected the outside view. “I couldn’t sleep before coming to talk to you.”

He clenched his jaw muscles and held her gaze, hoping his heart would settle down soon. “I was worried, too.”

She moved her attention away from him and curled her fingers into her palms, hiding her hands in her lap. He saw her throat work. Leaning forward, he hoped to show he was receptive to what she had to say. Between her sick children and the loss of their father, he couldn’t bear to see her so fragile.

“Do you remember what was the last thing Essan said?”

He nodded. It was saved and backed up, recorded into the chip inside his mask. “He told me to go to you, to keep you safe.”

She still faced the viewport. “But that’s not what he meant, was it?”

The intensity of her grief made his chest ache, anxious that she would start crying. “I’ve lost a brother,” he began saying to her. “I don’t want you to lose him.”

“So he is still alive?” she turned her incredulous gaze to him. “Can you sense it?”

“I would have known if he had passed,” he answered bitterly.

Her voice was raspy and she narrowed her eyelids.

“Can we rescue him?”

Unable to fight the tremor in his whole body he wiped his face in his palms and shook his head.

“The time shift lapsed to a full day for Zakuul. If he was captured he is in the Spire now, taken prisoner by my brother.” He bit his lips and averted her deadly stare. “I only hope everyone we know on the Terminus has made it out safely. They’re our only chance to salvage the coalition.”

“What about Darth Marr?”

“He stayed with Essan until the end.”

But what end?

“We should regroup with Lana on Manaan,” Tayleen said, recovering her wits as she straightened her back. She smoothed her hands over her leg pants. “Then we’ll worry about the coalition.”

There was a faint hissing sound and they both looked towards the back of the ship.

“I made tea,” she said, standing and leading him out. “Come, we both need to have that meal you talked about.”

Searching her face, he started recalling the time he had talked about sharing food with her when a sudden push made him lose balance and he caught himself on the edge of the door frame, lungs aching and head throbbing painfully.

He heard screaming, wailing and sobbing. Newborn sobs that came from the medbay. Tayleen was running towards them and he tried to follow, only to feel his legs fail under his weight and he caught his temples in his hands, deafened by a shock wave as he sat on the floor of the hallway.

 _So be it_.

The voice was unmistakable. The voice of his father.

Father, what have you done? He couldn’t think, he couldn’t make sense of what he was feeling and seeing. There was nothing but the void, death as if released from a spell and discharging its power across the galaxy. It wasn’t like Ziost as Marr had described it in his essay, but much more powerful, and less defined. It went in every direction and for a moment, Thexan thought he was going to die.

He thought everyone aboard the ship was going to die.

He pushed himself off his knees, grasping at his connection to the Force with all of his might to get to Tayleen and her babies. The few paces that separated him from the medbay seemed like an uphill climb. Eventually he found her holding her toddlers in both hands as she sat in the chair between the cribs, and they were calming down. Their hiccups and little whines for only indication that they had been disturbed and frightened in their sleep.

“They felt it too,” he said, panting, eyes watering. “Valkorion...”

Tayleen raised her worried expression towards him. “What about Valkorion?” she breathed.

He trained himself to fill and empty his lungs in rhythm and not try to hold his breath. The pain he’d felt in his chest had gone and he almost forgot about his wound. He even forgot about the loss of his home and his brother and-

“My father,” he answered, fighting hard to believe it himself, “he is dead.”

And he couldn’t wrap his mind around the aftershock of the realization of his father’s death, no longer sensing the presence of Valkorion, the ever looming eye that watched his every move and decision, seeded deep in his consciousness. Not only was his father gone, but he had so quickly compared the effect of his death with the annihilation of a world swallowed whole by none other than Vitiate.

“Do you think...” Tayleen began, before rising to set her children down in their cribs and they were so tired from crying that they barely protested. “Who did it? Do you know?”

“No,” he replied, distracted. “I just know that he’s no longer alive. His power is gone.”

Skeptical but alarmed, she hooked a hand inside his elbow to drag him away from the twins and sat him around the table in the lounge.

“Are you sure this isn’t some natural phenomenon, maybe a nearby supernova? There would be a quasar in this sector.”

“It’s him, I should know,” he insisted, looking up as she stood over him. “I’m his son.”

She seemed to quiet down her doubts as she folded her arms against her breasts. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” he told her flatly. “But now that he is gone, the only certain thing I know is that Arcann is going to take the throne.”

He didn’t know how he’d done it, but Arcann had managed to get what he desired.

“Do you think Essan did it?” she asked, sitting next to him. “Or Marr?”

“I don’t know.” He shifted in the couch to give her more room. “It’s very possible that both of them could overpower him.” With Arcann’s aid, he mentally continued.

Tayleen was searching his face as if she could find more explanations that way and he sensed that she was at a loss, blinded to the things he could see through the Force.

“Can his... _death_ do any harm to my children?” she softly asked, audibly close to sobbing.

He sighed and hoped he wasn’t wrong, that what he wished wasn’t overlapping with his perception. He leaned back his head against the seat and looked back at her.

“As long as they have their mother,” he said carefully, “someone who loves them and cares for them, nothing could harm your children.”

She blinked and nodded, looking away as if nothing was clear anymore. Her struggle as a young parent was something he empathized with and he felt ready to support her.

“You’re not alone,” Thexan continued. “You have your whole crew here. I’m here. I know now what I have to do.”

If anything, the twins would need protection and early tutoring in the Force to help shield them from the outside. After all, he was the only Force user among the crew.

Parting her lips to speak, Tayleen batted her eyelashes and seemed apologetic.

“And I assumed he wanted you to replace him,” she paused to look away. “I’m sorry, I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

“I was as mistaken as you were, and I have no excuse.” He tried to find an exit in their conversation. “You went through a lot, this past month. You deserve to rest, find peace in some way.”

She had clammed up again and he waited, patient and quiet until she could finally speak.

“I think I love him,” she said barely over a whisper. “That’s all I know, and I never told him.”

The emotional confession broke his heart. It tore at his hopes to ever get a taste of what this love felt like. It trampled his soul to know how cynical and bitter they had been towards one another.

“He knows,” he told her patiently. “Don’t blame yourself for what he did. We will see him again, I’m sure of it.”

She smiled but it appeared like a forced gesture of gratitude. She couldn’t sense what he sensed through the Force, or what her children could experience at their very young age. She was a mother who couldn’t protect her children from invisible powers. Thexan hesitantly smiled back.

“You saved me from certain death,” he reminded her. “You also opened my eyes to the truth, that my choices matter, that I could find meaning to my existence.”

His words made her consciously adjust the closing of her robe while she listened.

“What meaning is that?”

Thexan searched her caring gaze and locked his spine straight, feeling drawn to her.

“To fight for a just cause,” he answered. “Essan told me that sacrifice was more than death, it was devotion over selflessness. Loyalty...”

His voice trailed off as she lowered her face to hide her eyes and she used the edge of her palm to dry them.

“If Vitiate is able to hurt my children,” she said, “how could anyone help? I can’t shake this thought. I can’t even sleep in my own bed because it’s too far from the medbay. What if they...”

She covered her mouth and tears flowed over her cheeks.

“He is no longer here,” Thexan assured her, once again plagued by the notion that his father’s disappearance coincided with Vitiate’s. “You saw how calm they are now. They’re safe, Tayleen.”

She looked at through the open door behind her and they heard no cries, no whimpers coming from the cribs. If anything was wrong the health monitors would sound an alarm. His hand itched to touch her shoulder and tell her they were okay. Never in his life had he been so afraid of what someone would say or do to him. Not even when facing his own father. She turned to look back at him with a skeptical expression and he guessed she needed more than promises.

“Oh,” she said apologetically. “Tea. I forgot.”

While she left for the kitchen located near the crew quarters he sat and pondered whether or not she was ready to call it a day. Despite the signs of stress they both experienced, he didn’t feel like going to sleep just yet. The sole idea of sharing a drink with her kept him very much awake.

When she returned he stood to help her carry the jug of hot tea to the table.

“It’s not sweetened, I hope that’s how you like it.”

“Yes, thank you.”

He didn’t care how it was made or how it tasted, only glad she was willing to spend more time with him.

She took a seat on the couch, shifting to a comfortable and casual position to lean against the back.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he began, “how are you recovering?”

Blowing air over her cup, she gave him a sly look and twitched her lips, amused. “I’m doing alright. I miss my exercise, though. Can’t do proper sit-ups with my guts threatening to pour out of me.”

He smiled, knowing the feeling all too well.

“What about you?”

“Oh, I’m... I don’t want to brag, but I popped a few stitches when fighting on the Terminus.” Her face changed to pity and disgust. “It’s okay, Vector took care of it. I should be fine if I don’t exert myself for a while.”

Tayleen put her cup on the table and rubbed an itch on her neck. When her blue eyes looked back at his, she almost stuttered.

“I... shouldn’t be asking this.”

_No, no, please. Don’t..._

He braced himself and sat as stone, eyes wide. She paused and hesitantly asked.

“Why am I making you uncomfortable? I couldn’t help but notice, since we started talking, you and I.”

“No,” he naively corrected, “I enjoy your company.”

“Just not _this_ sort of company,” she added, edging her hand on the couch near his. “I won’t touch you if you prefer it that way.”

“Ah, um,” he tried not to let his fears overcome his mind, “yes. Please, that would help.”

His lips were tingling and his eyes warmed up while his brain shouted _No! What are you doing? Please touch my hand!_ and he just smiled and took a sip of hot tea, almost burning his tongue and pallet.

At that moment he cursed and blessed the fact that she couldn’t read his mind or sense his emotions.

“You confuse me, Thexan,” she curiously said. “Today you were very assertive and confident, as the leader you’ve been your entire life, and now it’s like we barely met, or you would have no idea who I am, what we’ve been through.”

“A lot has happened,” he whispered. “And I don’t want to do or say something I will regret.”

“Today has been the worst day,” she complained wearily. “It’s a wonder how we can spend quiet time drinking tea at the end.”

He took another sip and tried to think of a compliment to change the subject, but every topic in his mind was an indirect route to his admiration for her. Her life, her appearance, her attitude towards him. He felt tired, emotionally and physically.

“Would you like to sleep in my cabin?”

Furrowing his brow, he clutched the cup in his hands and parted his lips to refuse.

“I will sleep with the twins,” she explained, her face very genuinely honest. “I figured you would want to sleep on your own, and not in a shared bunk bed with everyone.”

“I- thank you. That’s very considerate. But...” He stopped as she widened her eyes slightly. “I wouldn’t want to be sending the wrong message, should someone see me there. I was going to sleep in the cockpit until you found me.”

She breathed out irritably. “In your condition.” Leaning her elbows on the table, her fingers drummed on her cup as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Thexan... Am I more than a friend, to you?”

He found himself searching her gaze in return, as if he could find the answer there and hopefully make sense of what he was feeling for her. She knew. He felt ambushed and unable to move, yet he was willing to surrender to her and reveal everything.

“I care very much about you,” he finally said, quietly. “Despite everything that’s happened, I know I should be focused on the war and not meddle with your life, instead here we are. And you can see right through me.”

She softened her gaze. “I can’t. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Oh.”

Tayleen sighed and stared at the ceiling. “Whatever my crew believes is going on between us, just know that you have nothing to hide. I told them who you are and how important you are to me.” She watched his hands as he placed his cup of tea on the table. “That night, after you stopped Arcann in my room, I was heartbroken. I cried for hours thinking I had lost a friend. When you insisted to talk to me afterwords I knew you needed me as much as I needed you.”

Ignoring the thunder in his chest, Thexan leaned forward if only to whisper in reply.

“You were detained at the time and I was still a slave to my father. We had no other choice but to rely on each other.”

“Nevertheless,” she blinked rapidly at him, “what we felt still matter.”

He could feel her breath reaching his face and he was almost deafened by his pulse. “Because your husband is gone and I’m the only Force user on your crew to help protect your children. Our relationship is circumstantial.”

The line in her forehead softened and she moved back from him. “You aren’t Essan. He left us because he knows the pain I feel every time he looks at me. I am in agony when I see him caring so much for the twins because he never stays. He-” she repressed a hiccup and covered her face, her eyes were drowning in tears. “He couldn’t stand seeing me like this... That’s why you are here. Thexan...”

She was shaking and unable to calm herself and he was overwhelmed with the ache of being abandoned. His arm reached for her and he gave no thought to moving closer and letting her body press against his.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his words falling flat as she touched his hand over her shoulder. Her breathing slowed and she sniffled something vile in her nostrils but he knew all too well what it was like to lay awake at night, plagued by these feelings ever since his childhood.

“This is a great twist,” she sarcastically complained. “You’re the one who is trapped with me now.”

Nervous, he chuckled and failed to ignore the soothing caress of her hand over his fingers, the warmth of her body nestled at his side. She brought her feet upon the seat and compressed her belly with her robe.

“It still hurts,” he said. “You shouldn’t sit that way.”

“I can sit however I want. It’s my body,” she lazily replied, eyes closed as if she was trying to sleep. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt that much now.”

No, it shouldn’t. Thexan stayed silent as he let her tangle her fingers with his because he was letting the Force swell over her presence and taking the pain away for the both of them.

“Tayleen, I’m using a meditative method to ease the suffering of battle injuries,” he cautiously said. “Needless to say I had lots of practice since Arcann, and aiding the Knights in our conquests.”

“I see... Can it heal wounds quicker?”

“Over time, yes.”

He became aware of the extent of her surgery, the length of the cut in her muscles and skin, the scarring tissue in her womb. The wound felt real as if it were his own. She shuddered beneath his arm and covered the robe tightly around herself.

“Was that...?” she looked up, inches from his face. “Did you-”

“Sorry, I’m- I won’t do it again.”

“That,” she replied, very awake and surprised, putting her feet down, “was something I didn’t expect. But you should do it again next time I’m more comfortable. Preferably in bed.”

Her smile and serene look made his shame fly away. The last thing on his mind was to trespass any forbidden areas, especially concerning her person. He was still blushing when she got up and smoothed her hands over her robe.

“It was inappropriate of me-”

She shook her head and stopped him, touching his shoulder.

“It’s okay, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. But when it comes to you I want to take things slow,” she shyly said, looking over to him. “You should take my room, even for a few hours.”

He nodded, watching her walk small silent steps towards the medbay.

The captain’s cabin was small yet comfortable and he felt ill at ease to occupy her bed, even though she insistingly told him to use it. He lied over the blanket and took a deep breath, smelling her subtle scent on the linens and pillows. He imagined she was used to sleeping alone, perhaps in the same sleeping garb she wore that night. Perhaps wearing a sleeping gown like he’d seen her using aboard his ship. Trying to think of better ways to have dealt with her condition he reflected with anger at his awkwardness. Nobody had ever been so nice to him like she was and he didn’t know how to repay her in kind.

His only friend used to be Arcann. He had given his life for his brother. His only friend. What was he doing now?

He feared ever meeting Arcann again, afraid to see what he had become now that their father was gone.

Trying to fall asleep, he let his mind wander and linger on the only person that meant something good to him, still warm where she was sitting against him, holding his own hand as if it was hers. She never rejected him and cared about him, even when he made a mistake. She wanted him with her as much as he wanted to be.

At last he knew his purpose, and found sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank Defira for the immense work she has done and inspired me to write Thexan's character.
> 
> Check out her story: An Empire's Ransom!  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/5120642


	12. Manaan

 

“These treatments are more expensive than your ship,” Lokin quietly said, looking at reports on Selkath medical experiments with his datapad. “I hope you have a secret trust fund,” he told Tayleen, “or a cache full of credits somewhere on Hutta.”

She had trouble keeping her mind focused, waiting in the dull-colored hallways of the hospital compound in Ahto City. She clunked at her own damp hands, grinding her teeth hoping the twins would make it through. The Selkath had detected the location of the defect in their hearts and were operating on them.

“It’s better than having them spend their entire lives on medication,” she irritably replied. Her eyes went from the Doctor to Vector, then Kaliyo, Vette who was so worried she hadn’t spoken in hours. And Thexan. He stood farthest from her and aside from the group. His expression was concerned but neutral. “We don’t even have anything like medical insurance for infants, so why not get the best medical care in the galaxy?”

The Selkath remembered her from when she helped uncover illegal research operation of Darth Arkous, but her presence now on Manaan could potentially damage their neutrality should any of the opposing factions discover she was hiding there. She had offered to pay for all of the medical expenses as insurance to justify the personal nature of her business.

But micro-surgery on mixed species infants was expensive. Kolto was expensive. She was not taking any chances.

She stood nearest the door of the operation room while her crew was settled around a small round table in the waiting area. They could see the ocean through the window behind them. The place was bathed in light and calm she felt sweat beading in her back and shivering with cold.

“It has been two hours,” said Vector. “We think the operation should be over by now.”

She dreaded seeing the sedated bodies of her little babies, a vertical scar stapled in the middle of their tiny chests. She couldn’t stop her mind from running the worst visions and anger took over.

_This is your fault. You wanted this. You made them suffer. You are selfish._

_You don’t deserve to see them live._

Cursing herself for letting these destructive thoughts flow freely, she decided to sit and cross her legs, ignoring the pressing need to use the refreshers. They had arrived in the evening and two hours was the time the Selkath had said they would need for the surgery.

Finally the door hissed open. One of the Selkath surgeons appeared, it was a female. She wore a moss green uniform and gloves over her three clawed fingers. She addressed Tayleen directly.

“The surgery went as planned and the infants are well.”

Tayleen covered her lips and let out a breath of relief, nodding gratefully. The surgeon continued speaking in Selkatha.

“We will keep them under observation for a week. You are welcome to stay in the guest room for relatives of the patients. Just know that they won’t be awake until tomorrow in order to prevent complications.”

“That’s,” she hesitated, counting the hours until the morning, “I understand. Thank you.”

It would only be an overnight wait. She consoled herself knowing she could sleep nearby.

The Selkath went back into the operation room. When Tayleen turned she saw her crew had gathered around her with apprehensive faces.

“They’re fine,” she told them. “They’re going to make it.”

Vette patted one of her arms with a smile. Tayleen folded them tightly and repressed a nervous frown.

“You must be tired. You should head back on board and get some shut-eye while I stay here.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Vette asked.

“They’re lending me a room so that I can stay close to the twins.”

“We’ll have to look into your housing arrangements,” said Lokin. “They won’t let you occupy the hospital very long and you deserve better lodging.”

“That would be helpful, thank you.”

She didn’t have the mind to negotiate for anything at that time. When Lokin headed back to the entrance with Vector, Kaliyo gave her a little pat on the cheek before Vette dragged her away with a discrete smirk.

Tayleen looked at the two women abandoning her without warning and she was left facing Thexan, standing in his black robes and silver armor. He didn’t like wearing the hood or the mask. Her heart rate seemed to pick up speed as they stood in silence.

“Thank you,” she said, uncertain. “You must be sick of seeing medbays by now.”

He smiled and looked out towards the window and the far away waves. “This is different, we’re not patients.”

She thought of the night aboard the Phantom when she had experienced first-hand the healing power of the Force and the way he had cared about her suffering. The feeling had been so intense she was scared to even mention it.

“Maybe they can do something for you,” she suggested, “with the right treatment you could be completely healed.”

“It’s very generous of you but I’m getting by.” He shifted his weight to his other foot. “Is there something you would need for the night? Supplies, equipment?”

She nodded, his offer was unexpected. “Yes, thank you for reminding me...” She checked her pockets and belt pouches. “Could you grab my emergency bag from the ship?”

When she raised her eyes to him their gazes locked and he was genuinely smiling at her. It seemed that, very long ago, on some distant world, she had asked the same thing of him and, at that time she was about to board a Zakuulan transport, she had been so terrified and he was so different now.

“So much happened since that day,” he said to her.

Parting her lips to reply, she realized she wasn’t ready to express her deepest thoughts and feelings yet. She couldn’t just blurt out whatever she had in mind just to get the conversation going. He was Thexan, the human male who only joined her crew because there was no other choice and Essan had made him promise to stay with her. He wasn’t there because he had chosen to be there.

“Will you be okay among my people?” she asked him warily. “How are they treating you?”

She caught him tensing her jaw and he straightened his back. His attention was elsewhere when he replied. “They are civil with me... as long as I keep my distances which is not an issue.”

“I’m sorry, Thexan.” She took a deep breath to wash away the pain in her heart. “I’ll talk to them-”

He raised a palm. “No need for that, I don’t want to disrupt morale. You have enough on your plate.”

“Then what will you do?”

“Take it one day at a time. We’ve only just arrived.”

She tried to loosen up her shoulders but her arms wouldn’t collaborate, trying to hide her hands for as long as possible. It didn’t matter what she wanted or how she felt now, she was a mother. Her children were the priority.

“I think I should turn in,” she dryly murmured. “I would invite you in but it’s only for close relatives...”

Vette and Kaliyo had wordlessly vacated that hallway just for her and Thexan. She tried not to let that detail plague her thoughts.

He kindly smiled to her. “Take care of yourself. And try to sleep... We’ll see you in the morning.”

She watched him walk away after one last benevolent look over his shoulder. The dark robes were odd on him, he was still Thexan; kind, gentle, pillar of morality Thexan. Even though there was footage of the Zakuul princes attacking Sith and Jedi on conquered planets, she couldn’t reconcile the two pictures together. He’d worn the mask of tyranny before he met her, she was convinced.

But he strode with the purposeful gait she was used to seeing when he was commanding the Eternal Fleet. He still had an effect on her when the rest of the galaxy no longer considered him alive.

 

* * *

 

Ahto City was nothing like he had imagined at night. The street lights were bio-luminescence imbedded in the pavement making stargazing possible even at early dusk, the Selkath rarely went outside, preferring their climate-controlled environment that better suited their sensitive aquatic skin. The Phantom was sitting on its landing pod with seamless elegance in the smooth and curved architecture of the capital.

Sitting on a bench and breathing the ocean breeze, he took in the sight of the ship, listening to nothing but waves softly crashing against the city’s platform below.

Footsteps closed in on him with unclear intent. He sensed curiosity with a hint of distrust.

“The chief of Medicine helped us find lodging,” the geneticist began telling as he sat on the bench to his right. “There are no available spaces to house visitors permanently, so a local has agreed to rent out her apartment to us. She is a scientist and has read my work on my Taris experiments. I think we’d be wrong to pass on this opportunity.”

Thexan cocked an eyebrow at Lokin.

“Does she know who we are?”

“I assume she does, otherwise we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“I suppose.” He meshed his fingers between his knees and tried not to appear too skeptical, keeping his attention towards the Phantom. “You haven’t told anyone about my identity, have you?”

The older man let out a tired chuckle that ended in a sigh. He supported his back by leaning against the arm rest of the bench.

“I have told the medical personnel that you are the Agent’s friend, a Sith who escaped from Darth Marr’s flagship before it was destroyed. You are here to protect her and the twins, are you not?”

“With my life.”

He nodded. “Well, no one would question that. The Selkath only care about two things: their neutrality and their ecosystem. As long as our actions cause harm to neither, we are welcome to stay for as long as necessary.”

“You make it sound simple,” Thexan thought out loud, “and I’m grateful for your support, Doctor.”

“Son, you will need more than support in the days to come. I don’t know where this is all going, but if the children turn out to be as strong in the Force as their father, we will have a lot on our plate. You in particular.”

He’d given time to imagine what it would be like to raise the twins as his own children, to teach them the basics of life, to show them the ways of the Force. To teach them to fight and survive. Essan would have wanted it.

But Essan wasn’t dead.

“And Tayleen,” he added, looking over to the Doctor. “She needs support, too.”

“If you know what is best for her, then by all means.” The gray-eyed man raised himself off his seat. “The Agent has given us care and protection for years without asking anything in return. We all are in her debt. I, for one, am glad she is taking steps to care for herself.”

“But the children-”

“That’s why you are here,” Lokin interrupted, his wrinkled eyelids squinting down at him. “Move in with her, son. She has been through a lot. I would be glad if she could finally live her life.”

He watched the Doctor leave so that he would be alone with those last words hanging in the air. A chill ran up his spine. The ache remained in his chest and stomach and he tried not to itch his scar.

Where had his life gone, before Arcann turned his weapon against him? What was he supposed to become before his father had turned his back on him? Thexan surely did not see himself becoming a family man, let alone a babysitter. He barely knew what being in a relationship entailed. The role models in his life only encouraged him to choose solitude. When Tayleen came to mind he would set himself as far away from her as possible, but reality always caught up to him and place him right by her side.

He returned to the hospital with the duffel bag. Its weight was bitterly familiar in his grip. The gesture, a subtle reminder that he was being given a second chance. He was supposed to be dead, he kept telling himself in a silent mantra.

A Selkath medical staff member stopped him as he came back towards the hallway where he could find her room.

“This area is for close relatives only,” he heard speak in Selkatha.

“This belongs to Agent Pansahu,” Thexan politely replied, lifting the bag at eye level for the short Selkath. “Maybe you could make an exception for her crew mates?”

“No exceptions,” the Selkath hissed, taking the belongings with its skinny arms. “You are welcome to stay in the lounge and she will meet you there.”

In other times, in other circumstances, Thexan would have been in his right to condescend over those who dared deny him. He was royalty, and it was his privilege to expect total obedience.

No one ever denied him anything without even his request, and that never really sat right with him. How could he know when someone truly wanted to help him when they had no other choice? How could he feel trusting of others when they were told to obey or die? How could he feel happy when he was not alone?

He found Vette sitting by herself with a datapad on her lap, next to a bay window that showed no waves, no starlit sky, but the darkness under the water. There were floating sea reefs and sometimes a passing light filtered through the ripples in the surface when a ship flew by, projecting it’s landing spot lights downward.

The young Twi’lek raised her brown eyes at him and he realized he had been standing there for a while.

“Aren’t you going back on the ship?” he asked her, hoping she would engage in conversation.

She switched off her device and set it beside her on the couch. “I’m used to a different ship. Different people. I’m fine staying here for now.”

The lounge was empty except for the two of them and he thought there were too many tables, too many seats and the food processors looked far too large.

“You lost a friend,” he dared tell her.

Against all odds, she nodded and motioned for him to sit beside her. Thexan tried to smile gratefully but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate and he grimaced something awkward. He missed Essan. There was so much he had wanted to talk to him about, first about his brother to warn him of the dangers in facing Arcann. Second, about his father. His father, Valkorion, who now was dead but also Vitiate’s power was tied to his and it ate at him. He had to tell someone.

“He was the first man to ever give me everything I wanted without asking anything in return,” Vette said emotionally. “I never knew someone like that... Who respects you no matter what, you know?”

Thexan let her speak as he watched her venting her feelings.

“I- It’s been strange this past year. When we left Dromund Kaas I thought he was mad at me because I was naive enough to think he’d be interested in me, you know? Well, you probably don’t care about these things.”

“It’s okay,” he softly said, giving her a non-judging smile.

Vette sighed and ran her palm over her tired face. “Anyway, we all make mistakes, I suppose. I just didn’t think he would, ah... Find someone else. It wasn’t like him.” She was clinging to her knees and brought her arms together to compress her chest. “Am I being petty? I feel like I’m being petty.”

“You sound more confused than petty. Not a lot of people know what went on in his head.”

“Well, that’s also true.” She furtively looked at him then shrugged. “He just never struck me as the kind to abandon his friends, and his family. It was nice to see someone feeling so happy with him, I mean, Tayleen. They looked like they cared for each other, you know?”

He wanted to chuckle when he noticed she was rambling and her words slurred with fatigue and slumber.

“They do care a whole lot,” he confirmed with a nod.

The blue-skinned Twi’lek shifted in her seat and gave him a scrutinizing look.

“But so do you, am I wrong? And Tayleen likes you... Ugh, this is confusing. I’m _so_ sorry! This is not like me.”

This shouldn’t change anything, that someone would so bluntly point out what he felt about someone, without admitting it or even confessing to anyone. He froze and turned his attention to the floor. It was gray and sleek and you could eat off it.

“Did... she speak to you about _this_?” he asked with difficulty.

“She only said to the crew that you were important to her when we left the Terminus flagship. She didn’t say anything to me specifically but she didn’t need to. We can all see it, the way she looks at you, and you look at her...”

Her voice had turned soft and her expression was that of endearment. He felt his cheeks burning.

“It’s not right,” he protested, lying to himself. “She is heartbroken, she cares for Essan and her children.”

“We all do, we’re all heartbroken,” Vette said, almost defensive in her posture. Her hands were on her lap and her shoulders were braced forward. “But she has the strength to stand up from that and actually pay attention to you, on top of having babies who are sick. I wouldn’t turn her down if I were you.”

“I’m not...”

She leaned in and raised a tattooed eyebrow. “Are you waiting for Essan to return before telling her how you feel?”

He would wait until his dying breath. He would have Essan have his lightsaber cut through him, like Arcann once did, before he would reveal such feelings.

But Vette looked at him with such innocent playfulness he felt terrible becoming glum instead of responding.

“Do you think... she would like that?”

He thought his blood would leak from his nose and ears from how embarrassed he felt. Vette grinned and nodded repeatedly.

“She could use the boost in confidence, no matter what she tells you.”

“That’s... strangely comforting.”

“Hey, it’s free,” she casually added. “And I don’t think Essan will be back any time soon. Might as well support each other while we can.”

 

* * *

 

The stars. They were his only point of reference when he tried to find his way in the desolate land of his nightmare.

Because it was a nightmare, no dream of his ever included such beings as Valkorion - _Vitiate_. Except if he was dead.

Somehow, that alone wasn’t relief enough for him.

“You believe you can keep trying to escape,” said the booming voice coming from everywhere, and inside his head.

“I can go wherever I want to,” Essan replied, steadying his voice with effort not to betray his anger. “If this is a dream, everything should be possible.”

The voice took a visual form at the top of the hill he climbed and Valkorion chuckled, smug and condescending.

“You pretend to be in control when in reality, you let your feelings and doubt pull you down.” His vicious eyes piercing through him. “Do you believe I would deliberately let you escape from my design?”

Essan smiled with confidence behind his mask. “Not everything stays under your control. Not even your Empire... or your children.”

“They are unpredictable and foolish,” Valkorion scorned. “Do you think I was unaware of Thexan joining your little family? How foolish were you, to let my own flesh and blood into your ranks?”

“You let him die,” Essan shot back at the vision, stopping only to scowl at the Emperor. “What kind of father makes his children kill each other?”

The ghostly face was of stone, completely emotionless. “One that encourages survival over sentimentality. Thexan was strong, but loyalty was his weakness. He will never stop being a follower - a servant. Despite all his faults, Arcann at least has a drive for power above all else.”

Even if this wasn’t real, the temptation was too great, almost too good for Essan to lash at Vitiate and savor murdering this immortal monster. But he had no time or effort to spare for such self-indulgence. He walked passed the vision and made his way towards a valley. The ground shook, and he heard roaring in the distance.

“You still have to pass this ultimate test.”

Chuckling cynically, Essan jumped off a cliff, knowing far too well that the fall would be an illusion, just like the rest. He remembered where up and down were. He could go back in time if this dream was linear. He could use space and time to his advantage.

“I can see through your plans and petty reasoning,” continued Vitiate, standing in front him in his regal robes and armor. Somehow, knowing what his face looked like made him a lot less threatening. “This is not a battle of wits, Wrath. I chose you for your strength. Anything else is only an amusement to me.”

“Fine, then.” He walked back towards the ruins of the Citadel, holding his lightsaber in case the defeated Imperial troopers and battle droids would come back to proverbial life in order to scornfully attack him. “Let the show begin.”

 

* * *

Gri’rlata walked slowly but graciously on the strip from the garden platform towards the main buildings of her homestead. She wore a teal outfit with knee pads to allow prolonged work on the ground and her tool belt contained a small rake and pouches for seeds. She greeted them with a small bow of her flat spotted head and she blinked her small black eyes at them. Her grunts and hisses were of surprise and endearment at the sight of the twins.

“Oh my... I wasn’t informed that I would be welcoming newborns.” She cautiously came near to look at Ceyrin in Tayleen’s arms. “They are so small.”

Zherrys gargled something against Thexan’s shoulder and Gri’rlata let out the equivalent of a laugh in Selkatha.

“This is Ceyrin,” Tayleen gladly introduced, “and that’s Zherrys. They were born two weeks ago. We just got out of the hospital for their heart condition.”

“You must come in and make yourselves at home,” said the elderly Selkath. She lead them towards the entrance of the compound. “I have little accommodations, mostly brought in by Doctor Lokin this morning, but you are welcome to bring your own additions.”

“We will make do,” Tayleen replied, entering the silent double door as they slid open. “Oh, wow.”

The temperature was mild inside and they stepped on a surface that was soft yet firm and it looked smooth as glass. She felt tempted to kick off her boots and feel the floor with her bare feet. Everything was gray or white. The rooms looked far more spacious than what the exterior led to believe. All angles were smoothed out into curves, all windows were large and offered a view of the oceans and Ahto City.

“This will be your home,” Gri’rlata told them, going through a hallway and lights faded in to illuminate different rooms. “You may call from anywhere to request assistance or advice. I will be staying in the annexe outside.”

The living room was the most extravagant. She stopped right around a central circle made of transparisteel, showing the underwater below the platform.

“Be mindful of the steps,” warned the owner. “That area can be closed flat for your comfort.”

“This is far more than we expected,” said Tayleen, feeling almost too lucky. “What about payment? How much do we owe you?”

“That’s already arranged with Doctor Lokin. He has been quite pleasant to deal with. A brilliant specimen, that human.”

She scoffed discretely and met Thexan’s gaze. “I noticed you have a botanic garden.”

“Why yes, I am a botanist. I grow several types of edible vegetables and legumes, should you feel adventurous in your culinary leisure.”

“We’d like that,” Tayleen grinned, delighted to have vegetarian meals at arm’s reach. “We’re a little tired of ration bars.”

Gri’rlata tilted her head to one side and blinked. “I remember your exploits and seeing your picture on the local news. But I don’t recognize your partner.”

“This is-” she interrupted herself, suddenly reminded that she wasn’t supposed to tell his real name.

“Thexan,” he replied in her stead. “A friend.”

“He is going to stay with me,” she continued and held his unbiased gaze.

Their host nodded and showed them how to work the refreshers, how to use the appliances in the kitchen and there was a stock of linens in the bedroom. She was eager to see them settle in and hurried to get out of their hair so that the twins could rest. When she left they were left with just the twins and Tayleen’s duffel bag.

She sat down on the nearest couch and was pleased with its firm softness. Zherrys tried to jab at Thexan’s face with her tiny fist because of how hungry she was getting. He widened his eyes and struggled to hold her with how much she flailed and whined.

“Come,” she said and motioned to him for help. “Let me feed her.”

He was worried about the logistics of handling infants and carrying himself awkwardly in front of her. He pulled out a blanket out of the bag while she had already opened her tunic and raised a nipple out of her bra to allow for Zherrys to latch on to her breast. Ceyrin took his own nap between two pillows beside her.

Thexan averted his eyes and she tried not to laugh. She found his shyness irresistible.

“I’m sorry,” he regretfully said.

“It’s alright, you can look.” She waited and his expression changed from a cringe to a calm surprise. “It’s just a breast,” she lectured him, smirking. “Free baby food, nothing more.”

“Ah, um, I didn’t think you would be comfortable with me being here.” He shifted his weight from a foot to the other and scratched the back of his head. “I’m going to set up the room, maybe run a few errands.”

His blushing face held her curiosity. Idly adjusting Zherrys’s socks she smiled and gave him a nod. “Make yourself at home, too. I think it’s best if you stay here, with us.”

“With you?” he asked back at her, almost desperately. “Wouldn’t you want Vette or Doctor Lokin to remain close, for the twins?”

She admitted to herself that he wasn’t exactly good with children. He was awkward and the twins often gave him hell when he tried to change them.

But seeing him with her, among her family, being out of his depths and helpless made her lose herself in contemplation.

“Yes,” she answered. “Lokin and Vette aren’t the kind of company I want. I’d be happy if you moved in with me.”

Scanning her face and her eyes he visibly pondered the idea. Then he took a seat next to Ceyrin and placed a finger into the baby boy’s hand that caught it instinctively. Thexan smiled and acquiesced.

“I can do that.” The corners of his mouth stretched and he didn’t look up from Ceyrin. “I would be happy, too.”

Tayleen beamed with joy that he would accept her offer. Seeing him lost among people he barely knew was tugging at her guilt strings, she had to keep him close to her, to make him feel part of something after he had lost everything. The children were one way to distract him from himself, as well.

And she was there to keep him company, she knew it was going to change them both. She felt his eyes on her and his watchful interest every time she moved. In the immaculate home she could smell his human scent and slight perspiration when their hands would inadvertently brush against one another.

She had felt her heart jump into a race every time his ocean-blue eyes would lock on hers. She had lost countless hours of sleep lying awake and wondering how it would be like to feel him against her. Inside of her. Facing reality brought her to tears.

They set up the baby cribs in the bedroom and she installed the monitor on the night stand while Thexan was working on something in the kitchen. When she joined him he surprised her with an assortment of warm meals spread out on the counter like an all-you-can-eat buffet. She knew it all came from a food processing machine but it all looked and smelled delicious.

“What’s this?” She managed to ask, gaping her mouth.

He turned around and made a face that was part puzzlement, part pride. He was trying to impress her. Tayleen picked a piece of fried starchy root and munched thoughtfully.

“I thought we could celebrate arriving here and being safe,” he replied, wiping his hands on a towel and he rubbed the cloth, searching for words. “I’ve invited your crew to join us.”

“Thexan, this is... wonderful.” She hesitated, having never uttered that word ever in her life. “I didn’t think you would be a party person.”

His jaws clenched and he put the towel down on the counter top. “I’m not... I just thought you would like some distraction.”

“Oh...”

She walked around the table and tried not to let herself be tempted to pick at another plate if this was supposed to be for their guests. Thexan took an anxious step aside when she reached for a glass in a rack. She had her eyes on a bottle of Namana liquor.

“Have you had this before?” she asked.

Thexan mirrored her and picked a stemmed glass for himself before taking the bottle.

“Yes, it’s fortunate to find one here, of all places.” He opened the cap and raised his chin, waiting for her to tilt her glass so he could serve her the orange drink. It had a certain thickness that seemed pleasing and smelled lightly spicy. “It’s addictive to humans.”

“I know. And I’m breastfeeding so, this is all for you,” she said, lifting the glass up for him. “Should we toast?”

He took a slow breath and looked at her from under his brow. Her lips parted almost instantly and she believed it was the effect of the alcoholic vapors she was smelling. He skeptically tilted the drink, watching the way it clung to the glass.

“To Essan and Marr,” he mournfully said.

She bit the inside of her cheeks and studied his lips as he softly spoke.

“May they find strength in the Force, and faith that we will find them.”

He took a tentative sip of the orange liquor and she pinched her smile when he winced.

“Too strong?” she teased.

As if presented with a challenge, he took another sip, longer this time and his control was improved if his rose-colored cheeks were no indication of it.

“It’s spicier than I remember,” he rasped, his lips were glistening and red. “Too bad you can’t have any.”

She landed the flat of her fist against his shoulder in a mock punch and he chuckled at her, holding the bottle and glass away from her wrath. He set them down and she admired the way his muscled neck craned as he searched for free room on the table. His biceps contracted when she touched his arm.

“You have some left,” she suggestively told him, approaching her hand to his face, ready to run a thumb over his lower lip. “Right here.”

His brow creased as he saw her lick the Namana liquor from her thumb. He gaped and mouthed her name, voiceless and outrageously amazed.

It was sweeter and spicier than she remembered as well. Perhaps her memories had faded over the years. Perhaps the excitement was making her brain accentuate all of her senses. She felt warm inside and out, and his chest was so close to her. The smell of his breath was inebriating.

“It’s more potent than what I recall,” she commented. “I’m feeling light-headed.”

“It’s not the alcohol,” he whispered back. “I’ve felt this way for hours now.”

His eyelids narrowed over her and no Force in the galaxy could tear her away from his attention.

“We’re probably thinking things,” she reluctantly objected. “It’s the house, the new decor. Being far from everything.”

“Probably...”

His eyes slowly followed the edge of her face and her neck and her breast. His hand came up to touch her cheek, but stopped at the last second. He seemingly woke up and took a step back.

“They could be here any minute.” He snapped and turned around, putting away the bottle and glass. He cleared his throat to give himself composure while she lost all of hers. “I’m terribly sorry. I shouldn’t have done or said any of... _that_.”

She gasped and let out a moaning sigh, knowing all too well the kind of fear that plagued him. The fear that he would be getting something he didn’t deserve. That same fear that kept her from following her deepest desires. Thexan kept his back at her, frantically cleaning up the mess of preparation trays and plates in the kitchen. She wanted to call off the celebratory meal, to hide in a room and not come out of it. She wanted to never see his face again if he was still in pain.

 

* * *

Flashing lights and pain struck him in and out of consciousness. He no longer saw the stars, but blinding light all around him. And he felt the wind on his face. This was definitely a dream. A dream within a dream? Essan tried to look upon himself but saw only the floor and he had no hands, no legs. He was just there, but not really there. He heard voices and they were trying to be discrete. Two people were talking and he didn’t know what the words said, he only knew the what, not the how. It was strangely inviting yet he felt intruding.

Someone said his name.

 _Who is it?_ he called.

He heard Marr’s name and he wanted to run but with no legs he couldn’t take any faster steps so he willed himself towards the origin of the voice. It was a male voice. It was joined by a female and it was unmistakable.

Tayleen. He could see her now and she looked radiant, wearing a black tunic and her eyelids were painted and she was frowning, upset. Her arms were crossed and he felt her sadness deep into his core.

 _Tayleen!_ he called. _It’s me, I’m here. Tayleen..._

She was staring at someone out of his blurred field of view.

“Thexan.” She had spoken with intent, her face was hard and she was painfully in love. “Look at me.”

Essan wanted to back away and become more invisible than he already was. When he finally focused on the man in front of her, he recognized Thexan. He wore civilian clothes, nothing of the armor Essan had given him on the Fury. This took another step towards fiction rather than reality for him.

The man turned around to comply and his expression was just as pained as hers. Silence was increasing the anguish Essan felt. Even without a stomach, he thought he was going to be sick. He wanted to grab Thexan and shake him.

 _Go to her, you fool_ , he seethed. _Don’t make her suffer_.

He was panting and his confused face finally lifted and he took the few steps that separated from the woman who loved him. Essan let out a breath of relief with lungs he couldn’t feel. He felt the pulse of a heartbeat he didn’t have.

Tayleen raised her arms and circled his neck. Thexan hugged her and they cried together.

 _This is for the best_ , he whispered, frustrated that he couldn’t speak to her at all. Suffocating to see her this way. Maybe it was all a dream.

Maybe.

When he saw them kissing the flashing returned and he felt cold very suddenly. Darkness was around him again. He thought he had gone blind a second time when he felt an actual jerk of his muscles. He raised himself on his elbows and looked at the torn red flag of the Empire. The Citadel. This was the Dark Council’s chamber and he heard a lightsaber thrashing and humming.

“Wrath!”

Droid parts flew around him and he heard a synthetic voice buzzing loudly.

“On your feet!”

Blaster fire tore him from his numb slumber and he stood up to see the black and red colors of the Sith Lord, fighting off the vision of Sith adepts. They were four, coming from both entrances.

Marr held his lightsaber up and summoned the Force to his will, hurling the enemies to crash and break bones against the wall. Essan ignited his saber and batted off attacks meant for him, another adept leapt across the room and tried to fly over his head to hit Marr. Essan raised his arm and sliced him in two.

“This dream- this... nightmare,” hissed Marr. “It never stops. I sensed you were near so I came back to this forsaken place, that’s when I found you unconscious.”

“I was shown something,” he attempted to explain. He shook his masked head. “Never mind. We know this isn’t the real world. All we have to do is survive.”

Marr stood back-to-back with him and more Sith enemies rushed in. The Dark Councilor cackled a maniacal laugh. “I am sure Vitiate hadn’t planned for this.”

“I saw you die,” Essan told him, his throat was tight. “Maybe I’m dead, too.”

He turned his mask towards him and took a better grip of his lightsaber. He was breathing, living and bleeding and doing all these things mortals did. Oh, what he would have given for this moment to be real. The hate-mongering adepts were closing in.

“In this case, Wrath, shall we show them the meaning of death?”

 

* * *

The holographic molecular structure slowly spun over the projector. Thexan looked at it while waiting, sitting in front of Lana Beniko’s desk as she was typing a report. The decor on Manaan was the same everywhere and after a month of living in Ahto City Thexan believed everything was built around the hospital complex, forming circular quadrants of white and gray.

“Your list of dissident Knights,” said the Minister of Sith Intelligence, pursing her pink lips with skepticism. “Is it reliable?”

“Those who weren’t court-martialed and dishonorably discharged have themselves deserted or went AWOL.” He squinted back at her. “Did you think we would have all of them executed?”

Her Force aura was tainted with scorn even if her voice wanted to sound pleasant.

“Most of your warriors are loyal to the death, some of them even betrayed your father in order to save you. I do believe there was a part of humanity in your ways. In the past tense.”

“Zakuul was peaceful,” he stated. “Until my father decided to wage war against the galaxy.”

“When Vitiate revealed his true colors,” Lana corrected.

“Valkorion,” Thexan retorted, brow furrowed. “Vitiate was your emperor. He died at the hands of the Jedi. You can’t replace my father’s identity with a concept that better fits your vision.”

She meshed her gloved fingers on her desk, her pale face stoic. “You, yourself, have confirmed the passing of Valkorion was simultaneous to Vitiate dying.”

“I made my peace with it,” he assured her, biting back his anger. “But unless we have confirmation that Vitiate somehow occupied two physical forms at once, we should refer to my father as Valkorion for the deeds he has done while he lived.”

“Very well, Thexan, I won’t object to that request if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

She paused to observe his reaction and he gave her a slow, deliberate nod. “I’m distanced from my family, being officially dead. It doesn’t get more comfortable than that.”

Lana blinked her vivid blue eyes at him and he saw the shadow of a smile on her mouth before her brow hardened. “I know I don’t often say it, but I appreciate you working with us. Without Darth Marr, the Wrath, and the coalition we are grasping at straws. It’s going to take months, if not years to reunite and get back our strength.”

“What about the Republic?” he attempted. “Have they come to their senses?”

“I wouldn’t venture that way,” she replied, disapprovingly strongly. “Supreme Chancellor Saresh is stubborn in her opposition of the Empire. Whatever treaty we initiate will be met with more conflict.” Her attention was drawn to her computer terminal and she brought up a map of the galaxy. “What do you make of this?”

Red dots were sprinkled across the Inner Rim and he identified them with sporadic attacks from the Eternal Fleet. They were spreading throughout the Core Worlds. The green dots were blinking and meeting the red ones in represented defense positions.

“They’re spreading themselves thin,” Thexan said. “How do they maintain their numbers?”

“As far as we can tell, they are not. We’ve intercepted reports of heavy losses on the Republic side. Satele Shan is leading the counter-attacks on the battlefield since they’re running out of able bodies. Civilians are being wiped out and resources are being siphoned.”

“To build more droids,” he explained. “To more securely implant the Fleet on conquered planets through resource exploitation.”

The worlds were offered a chance to kneel and submit their planet’s resources to Zakuul. If they accepted, they were spared and turned subservient to the Eternal Empire. Those who didn’t, perished. Thexan decided that information was not vital to Lana.

“We will have to secure our own assets,” she said. “I may have to travel to Dromund Kaas and contact what is left of the Dark Council. If we agree on a second coalition, we may have a chance to pull through...” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “It’s a bad start, and a hopeless plan. Right now, any sliver of a chance to expand our forces is our best option.”

He rose from his seat in a smooth motion, happy for the simple fact that his scar no longer hurt. The Selkath and their medicine had done wonders.

“I will need to meet with contacts on Zakuul,” he suggested, “or in the vicinity. If potential allies have to crawl out from under Arcann’s radar they won’t be able to leave the system.”

She raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Won’t that expose you?”

He picked up the mask from his seat and she stood to walk around her desk.

“I’m best equipped to walk on my home world unnoticed.”

She joined hands in front of her belt and nodded sharply.

“In this case I wish you luck. Do let me know when you are ready to deploy so that I can arrange for a team of operatives to assist you.”

He held off wearing his mask for as long as he was facing her. “Tayleen will want to hear about it first. I will keep you upraised.”

Lana hesitantly raised a hand as if asking permission to speak.

“I don’t mean to pry, far from it, but how are you adjusting to your home?”

He understood her question as a way to say she worried about his sudden change from prince of an empire to diaper-changing and vomit-cleaning surrogate father. He gave her a mock frown and shrugged.

“I’m keeping busy.”

“I hope you’ve maintained regular physical training,” she then spoke quickly, almost tripping on words. “Who knows what trouble you may encounter.”

“Yes, I have,” he nodded and kept himself from chuckling. He wanted to hide his smirk into his mask but she looked too amusingly embarrassed and her cheeks turned pink. “Not _that_ kind of training, Minister.”

“Oh... oh?” her shyness turned to curiosity and he clenched his abdominal muscles to retain laughter. “My apologies, I assumed... Never mind.”

Eying her suspiciously he propped a fist to his hip and comically interrogated her. “What has Tayleen told you about me?”

The Sith lord took a step back, raising her palms in defense and she shook her head, going back to her strict and professional tone.

“Do not make me say things I will regret, Thexan. Now is not the time for idle pleasantries and jokes.”

He maintained a polite smile as he looked down at her and nodded respectfully. She was tense, and evidently affected by loss. He wished there was more he could say to ease her discomfort or even distract her mind.

“Tayleen and I are friends,” he confided, “and I know you are thinking about Lord Skordus because I do the same each time I look upon his children. He is a friend to me as well but he made me promise to be present for Tayleen. That’s why I need her blessing to leave Manaan.”

He realized he had been murmuring and she was squinting her already narrow eyes in order to decipher his true intentions. She was always distrusting, always on her guard and he thought he had spoken honestly but she didn’t appear satisfied with the explanation. Perhaps he had been over-sharing.

“I’ll... try to keep that in mind for our next plans,” she finally said. “Until next time.”

It seemed she was more in a hurry to leave her office than he was. It was strange, not being the one to wish to run from anything relative to privacy and family life.

A month of shared living with another person and two infants had definitely given him perspective. Yes, the house they rented from an elder Selkath botanist was large and comfortable, fitted with minimalistic decor in spacious white rooms with gray flooring that was easy to mop. And yes, spending time with Tayleen had lowered his anxiety in the area of talking to people that weren’t under his command. He even looked forward to meeting new faces and escaping the nursery once in a while.

The sky was dark over Ahto City and waves came crashing over the piers as he took an air speeder to reach his apartment. It was a few seconds ashore and standing alone on its pod: three buildings and a landing platform. The Selkath Gri’rlata lived in the building farthest from his own and she spent most of her time in the green house. It started to rain as he climbed down from the speeder and walked by her large window. She raised her slick curved head and blinked her small black eyes at him as he waved his hand at her. She waved back slowly with her three-fingered hands and returned to tending her garden.

The storm was coming up. He walked into the apartment and immediately took off his boots. It was more sanitary for the children even if they hadn’t started to crawl yet. Better safe than wondering what type of oceanic fungus had made its way into the house. He heard Tayleen speaking by herself in the living room and made his way to the master bedroom.

“It’s me,” he announced, pulling off his gloves.

Inside, the storm was silent and only a harmless display of thunder and crashing waves against the thick transparisteel of the windows. It usually didn’t last long and he’d stopped paying attention to the weather. He hung his robe and mask in the wardrobe and changed to his civilian garb: black trousers, generic dark gray shirt with discrete buttons. Tayleen had done shopping for herself and she appeared to enjoy wearing loose-fitting clothes as well, even if her frame had reduced significantly since the delivery.

“I was just about to run the bath,” she replied. “How did it go?”

She walked in with Zherrys in her arms, patting the baby on her back as she laid her cheek on her mother’s shoulder. Thexan smiled and closed his shirt, leaving the collar open before rolling up his sleeves. He leaned in to give Zherrys a peck on the forehead.

“I suggested to go for the former Knights myself,” he told Tayleen. “It might take long, and it requires covert work. But if I’m not there myself to convince them it wouldn’t work.”

“You want to reveal yourself,” she rephrased, widening her eyes. “Prince Thexan, coming back from the dead. Do you really think they will follow you?”

He tore his eyes from Zherrys to look at her mother, the woman who had helped save his life and returned him to sanity and peace, a whole month ago. Her eyes were darkened with paint and shadows, and she used something on her skin that made her look radiant even though he knew she didn’t get much sleep.

“You aren’t sure, I can tell,” she continued, her ocean eyes fixed him while she left the room. “Let’s hope you actually find them at all.”

“They will have to trust us,” he said, grabbing a towel from the top shelves. “They will remember who I am, or what I used to be.”

He picked up Ceyrin from the crib in the living room and headed to the refreshers with Tayleen who checked the water temperature in the tub.

“We don’t need you to be your old self,” she softly said, setting Zherrys down on the changing table to remove the baby clothing and diaper. He mimicked her to prepare Ceyrin and he began grabbing his sister’s feet who started kicking.

“Easy, Ceyrin,” he said, picking him up. “Why do we buy expensive toys if you keep picking on your sister?”

Tayleen shot back a smile at him and set Zherrys down in the small container inside the tub to that they wouldn’t slide underwater and drown. The baby Twi’lek loved the water and started splashing instantly, wetting her mother’s sleeveless shirt and face.

“We’ll teach them to swim one day,” she said, using her hands to cup water to clean her daughter’s face and head. “Why am I already missing you?”

Thexan held Ceyrin upright in the tub and was caught by surprise.

“I’m not gone yet,” he reminded her. “There is no rush, but I have to run the project by you. We’re a family.”

“And I understand why you need to leave,” she said, handing Zherrys a rubber toy to get distracted while she spoke. “I’m starting to get cabin fever myself.”

Sitting more comfortably on the floor, Thexan rubbed Ceyrin’s back and looked at Tayleen, feeling guilty that he hadn’t included her in his plans.

“Can you trust your crew to take care of them for over a week?”

“Not this soon, no.” She breathed in and let out a sigh. “We have to hang on for at least another few months. The Selkath still need to run more diagnostics, we can’t leave that to chance.”

“I’ll notify Lana,” he replied quietly. “I didn’t give her a time frame and this will allow her to come up with a plan-B. You know how she is.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, raising a hairless brow. “I never really want to trust her, even if she is professional and disciplined...”

“She is Sith,” he finished for her. Ceyrin was clean enough and it was time to get out of the water. He didn’t want their skin to start pruning. “Not many are like Essan or Marr.”

Tayleen carried Zherrys onto the towel over her lap and started drying her. Ceyrin took his turn afterwords and got changed and dressed.

“All clean and smelling clean,” Tayleen said with a smile, giving her twins a kiss on the cheek they both giggled and grinned. “Time for bed now, hopefully.”

“They don’t look sleepy at all,” he commented. “We should probably watch more of those Taris history shows.”

“No more Rakghoul stories,” she begged. “We don’t need to give them nightmares.”

“It’s the narrator’s dull voice that does the trick.”

They went back to the bedroom and set the babies down in their cribs. Tayleen turned on the holographic rotating planets and a soothing lullaby played. Ceyrin was mesmerized while Zherrys started suckling on her fingers.

“You already ate,” Tayleen reminded her, rubbing her belly.

Thexan gently stroked their heads with his knuckles. “Good night, little beasts.”

“Come on,” she said to him, pulling his elbow to her before pressing a kiss on his neck. “I’m getting tired.”

He circled his arms and held her tightly, feeling his belly fill with fluttering lightning bugs. He closed his eyes but sensed with serene joy that the twins were soothed by their love. Sometimes that was all it took to get them to sleep. Tayleen raised herself on her toes and her lips matched his own, and even though his breath hastened, his mind was at peace. He let his hands lower on her hips while she caressed the back of his head. She parted her mouth to breathe and looked at him, setting her heels down on the floor.

“How do you do this?” Thexan whispered, eyes still lingering on her full lips before he stroked the lekku that caught his hand. “You make me feel so... content. I never want to leave.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she replied in kind and her hands laid over his chest. She felt his pectoral muscles and ran her hands down his arms to old his wrists. “I don’t usually feel this way for someone either.”

They had first kissed when they had finished moving in. They were perhaps taken by the beauty and calm of the planet. Perhaps it was something in the air.

He liked to entertain the idea that the twins were influencing their feelings for each other. Being a parent, even only as a substitute, had woken instincts in him he hadn’t expected. He felt more protective, more confident and driven. His admiration for Tayleen turned into deep affection that he wasn’t afraid to show for the sake of her children. They needed to grow up knowing that their mother was loved as they were.

They laid in bed together watching a crime series on missing persons in Coruscant. It was clearly written and directed with a Republic audience in mind with the Imperials playing the mean, evil power keeping the good Jedi detectives from doing their work. Tayleen had fallen asleep a half hour into the second episode, and he eased her under the sheets while he finished watching the holo program. The last time, she had asked him about the rest of the story, assuming he had watched the whole thing through.

He turned off the screen with feelings of disdain for the Republic Senate and a strange apathetic pity for the Jedi Council. The actress who impersonated Satele Shan wasn’t even dark-haired and looked far too young to be a Grand Master. He didn’t understand the entertainment business and the need to make everything look better than it was. He had respect for Shan, to some extent, knowing she had accepted to work with Marr on more than one occasion.

And she had had a son, despite the rules of the Jedi against forging attachments and having offspring. Along with Essan, she was evidence that people in power could become decent human beings.

Even his own father.

Feeling warm air against his arm, he pushed away the thoughts of his past and let his mind embrace the void of the present. He relished in the softness of her lekku as she laid nestled with her back against him, his elbow between her pillows and her neck. He slid his other arm around her waist and felt her hand to tangle their fingers.

“Still not asleep?” he whispered.

“I know you’re awake,” she replied, and he felt her smile against his arm. “I was dreaming of you.”

“But I’m right here,” he smiled back and she turned around in his embrace. He met her eyes in the dark. “Was it a good dream?”

She crunched up her nose and grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

No, he didn’t. Whatever she felt about him outside of his actual actions. He loved the closeness, the feeling of her against him and being open with him. But he didn’t need to know what she wanted him to do... sexually.

“I have a confession to make,” she carefully whispered, “the other day I saw you in the shower... You’d forgotten to close the door and I didn’t want to say anything.”

Thexan breathed through his nostrils and adjusted his head over his pillow, feeling an itch on his ear.

“What’s done is done,” he said, shrugging.

“I saw it...” Her eyes rolled down to him. “Your scar. It’s still red.”

“Oh,” he felt relieved and chuckled. “I promise, it’s fine.”

Being so close to her, he heard her trembling as she spoke. “I... worry about you. I don’t want you to hurt.”

“I’m not,” he assured her, taking her hand in his before she would try something rash. “Everything is okay, Tayleen.”

She sucked in a nervous breath and shifted to lay so close to him that he felt her shapes against him. They kissed, and he let himself abandon his defenses for a moment. Their lips parted and he let his tongue run along hers, provoking unwanted stimulation in other places of his body. He felt her knees rubbing against his and she touched his chest and stomach. She caught his lower lip between her front teeth and he grunted at the sensation in his groin. Her wandering hand had gone too far.

“Ngh-no. Please...”

She gasped and he pulled away and turned unto his back.

“Thexan... talk to me.”

He hadn’t thought about hiding his face because it was night time but his palms were over his eyes and they stung with salted tears and he was muffling a sob. He forced himself to recover a normal air intake, to breathe properly and to steady his voice. It took a while.

“It’s, ah... It’s difficult for me to do this.” He rubbed his eyelids until he couldn’t feel himself tearing up. “It’s not your fault, please understand. I didn’t mean to.”

She clung to his arm and her face was pressed against his shoulder. “You’re in pain, I know it.” She began to whimper slightly. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know...” He wanted so badly to show her that he trusted her, the same way she trusted him with her life, with her children.

“Whatever happened,” she continued, her voice weak and high pitched, “I want you to feel safe, but you have to let me in, somehow.”

The whole process of physical attraction and emotional intimacy eluded him. His only past experience with sex was hearing tales of his brother taking in his chambers admirers and people courting him for promises of power and privilege. Around the Spire, exuberant rumors ran wild about Arcann and his sexual performances. All the while, Thexan took to isolation and never quite enjoyed the idea of giving in to that pressure. He knew how to release the physical tension on his own, and had some familiarity with the concept of sexual pleasure...

...but not with someone else. That was Arcann’s thing. That same thing he had tried to force upon Tayleen when she was held captive.

Warm tears rolled down to his ears and he was hiding his stuffed nose, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry he did that to you._

He wasn’t sure who he was directing those thoughts to, Tayleen or himself? He just wanted so badly for the pain to stop.

“I need you to be okay,” he heard speak close to him. “You need to be okay, Thexan... because I love you.”

He squeezed water out of his eyes and dared to face her. Her soft hand caressed his wet cheek.

“I love you, Thexan.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy reading about Thexan and Tayleen living together, check out "Manaan" in the same series!


	13. Sith Intelligence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: non-consensual/assault theme in the first part (illusion)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to read more about Thexan and Tayleen living together, check out "Manaan" in the same series.

 

 

On any other day there would have been sweat rolling down his back and his outfit would stick to his skin.

On any other day he would have been wounded and blood would stain his armor.

...he would have called out for help from Quinn or Pierce but they were gone.

Essan listened over the hum of his lightsaber as he expected a Monolith to come out of the darkness but only heard the raspy breath of Darth Marr standing at his side. The creatures had come in waves to battle with them, to crush their spirit and bring their motive to a stop.

“More are coming,” said the Sith in red and black.

“He wants us fighting instead of scheming,” Essan spoke out, hoping Valkorion would get involved in the conversation. “It’s been hours since he has shown himself.”

Bucking over himself suddenly, Marr put a hand and knee to the ground. Essan rushed to him, holding his shoulder until the sickness would pass.

“This carbonite sleep is fooling our minds,” Marr groaned, looking up at him. “How you managed to link your consciousness to mine eludes me.”

“You were too valuable to kill. I knew Valkorion kept trophies, and he likes to toy with them.”

Marr made a visible effort to rise up to his feet, keeping himself steady on Essan’s shoulder.

“You killed him, Wrath. How?”

Panting, Essan kept his wits about them with thinning patience. The story was confusing even to him and he feared Vitiate would seek out to betray them.

“Arcann helped me do it.”

“The prodigal son,” Marr snarled, “unable to kill his father a second time. He used you and here we are now.”

“We can’t wait this out until someone rescues us.” He shook his head and angrily spun his blade to show his combat readiness. “Who knows how long it’s been since that day...”

“It is said in recorded experiments that consciousness remains in carbonite sleep, yet time goes slower for the trapped specimen.” Marr took a deep breath. “How long do you think you’ve been here?”

Essan looked at his hands and boots and then checked the stars. Nothing had changed.

“A day, at most.”

“Then we must assume the coalition forces have dispersed and have mourned us. I am sorry, Wrath.”

He clutched more tightly around the hilt of his weapon and averted looking at the Dark Councilor.

“I have planned for this.”

“You planned to trick me.”

He startled and thought another attack of the carbonite sickness struck him, but the voice he heard had provoked a different kind of pain.

The silhouette morphed into shape in front of him, first blurry and gray and orange, it took on the definite form of Tayleen dressed in her Agent uniform.

“You betrayed me,” she added, her face a cold stare of accusation.

Marr took a step forward, standing tall and defiant before the vision. “Vitiate. We were expecting you.”

“I had placed my fate between your hands,” continued the vision of Tayleen, “and you dismissed me, discarded me to the side while you went on your crusade.”

“Do not confuse my life with your own failures,” Essan retorted to Vitiate. “Your own wife left you because of what you had become. You treated your family like disposable pawns.”

“You would have done the same, eventually,” Vitiate replied, still using Tayleen’s appearance but his voice was his own and it sounded otherworldly. “Do you know what your beloved Tayleen said about you in the wake of your absence?” A sadistic smile waved across her soft face. “Do you know what my son has done to her?”

“Do not let these lies plague your mind,” warned Marr.

“I have more faith in your son than in a single word you would say,” Essan groaned, stepping closer to the vision. He circled her, stalking like a predator. “Your son no longer belongs to you. She has claimed him the moment he laid eyes on her.” He parted his lips and breathed, hoping to smell her scent, but there was nothing. “One of your sons may yet destroy you after all.”

A low rumble powerful enough to shake the ground rose from within Vitiate’s voice as he chuckled. Essan lost balance and was blinded again. This time, darkness engulfed him.

“Essan.”

He didn’t recognize the voice who had called his name and he opened his eyes. The mask of red pulled him up and he stood on a floor made of carpet. They were on a ship. It was dimly lit in the hallway and Marr was heading towards a door. The room they found was wide and rich with furniture and refined decoration. Large bay windows showed the stars and the galaxy.

“Wild Space,” Essan said, still puzzled that Marr would have used his real name. “What is this?”

“Another vision, I assume.”

He suddenly felt nauseated. “Someone is here.”

His instincts told him to stay away from one particular door across the lounge. He sensed presences there.

“Beware, Essan,” Marr told him suspectingly. “What we are about to see will be upsetting. I know it.”

It may have been more lies, but he had a feeling this was where Tayleen was kept for a month.

He came closer to the door and the sounds began to be heard through it. Voices. He heard no words but the moaning and whimpering were unmistakable. He reached for his lightsaber but found none at his belt.

“ _F--_ ”

“As I said,” Marr sighed, walking up to him. “You don’t want to pass that door.”

“She’s in there!” protested Essan. “What if I can still save her...”

“She is safe, son. You made sure of it. Whatever may have happened in the past cannot be changed. Your actions here are irrelevant.”

“I won’t sit idly by as Tayleen is hurt, even if this isn’t real.”

More out of rebellious rage than actual curiosity, Essan waved the door open with the Force and he thought his heart stopped. Two people were on the bed, mostly naked and the man who was pressing his weight over her still had white trousers on. He reminded him strikingly of Thexan but something in his expression wasn’t right.

And Essan screamed, used the Force to push away the man, Arcann - before the mask and the cybernetic arm - who was strangling her and pushing into her while her belly was huge and the babies were being crushed under his weight. No power managed to stop the scene that unfolded before him. Neither of them noticed his presence.

He felt a hand pull his arm backwards and he found himself in the dark room again. There were no more furniture pieces, no more carpet on the floor. They were under the stars and the ground was dust and rocks. He needed to steady his heart beat, to breathe and maybe take off his mask to ran his hand over his face because he felt so useless, so cowardly.

He had failed her.

“You were warned,” Marr said without empathy. “The vision has ended, perhaps we should focus on something more on point.”

“Good idea,” Essan complained, feeling sick and injured to his gut and back and just _everywhere._ This sickness was more than just a miscalculation in carbonite freezing. “Let’s think of the best way to torture Vitiate’s favorite son.”

Marr stared him down with his superiority. “While I wouldn’t be the one to back out of expeditious measures, now is not the time for vengeful impulses. We must vanquish Vitiate’s will. Having destroyed his body only had us trapped here while his progeny continues his galactic conquest.”

“What do you propose, then?” Essan spat, giving in to cynicism hoping his anger and hatred would leave him alone to think clearly. “If time goes by faster for the outside, if we keep fighting here we may as well never win.”

Holding his lightsaber at waist height, Marr turned his attention to Essan and looked beyond him, towards the valley of dust and destruction: Ziost.

“But if we succeed in what is to come,” he replied, “we would at least end our days here in peace, and so would the galaxy.”

 

* * *

 

She repressed a yawn. That four-o-clock wake up call came at the worst of times: Zherrys had had another bad dream and Ceyrin had managed to wet the bed despite the double layer of diaper pants. They were eating twice as much at four months and already starting to turn and crawl around their cribs. When she was sitting at the conference table in Lana’s office she was aware of slumber creeping its way back to her head when the Minister of Sith Intelligence was giving a sitrep of the remaining coalition forces. She became alert when she heard mention of Thexan.

“...Former Prince Thexan will rendez-vous with potential assets in the Zakuul system on his own. For security measures we’ve equiped his armor with surveillance and tracking devices.”

“In case he runs away?” Tayleen asked, finishing her line of thought. “He would have done that long ago.”

Sitting right beside her, he turned his head to share a trusting yet sad look. Six months ago she had rescued him from Zakuul and still her gut would urge her to protect him against the galaxy every time his name was uttered. Sometimes she wondered if meeting him while she was pregnant had something to do with her motherly attitude.

“I would be lying if that wasn’t an insurance for us,” Lana admitted with a bit of a defense in her tone.

“The beacons and emitters would jeopardize him in case of a sweep,” Tayleen continued to protest, “even with the most advanced tech, we don’t know the extent of Zakuulan security. They could very well trace his signal back to us without even raising our suspicions.”

Like they had planned to do with her when she was captured.

Lana narrowed her small eyes and her darkened lashes made them look almost closed.

“You are suggesting we place our faith in one man rather than use every means at our disposal to make sure this operation succeeds.”

“Our safety is more at risk than Thexan’s loyalty to us.” She almost stood from her chair. She chose to lean forward and lower her voice to inspire Lana’s trust. “You want to cover all bases, I get that. But hasn’t it been long enough for you to know now that he is on our side?”

The blonde Sith shot a quick glance at him before looking back at Tayleen with sharp, piercing yellow eyes.

“He is still impenetrably neutral to me. I cannot sense his emotions. He claims to use his cloaking skills to protect us from Vitiate but that also keeps me at bay.”

“We’ve sparred together,” Thexan intervened finally, meshing his fingers over his lap. “I let my defenses down a few times.”

“You let me win,” Lana corrected him. “It’s not the same.”

Their battling stares were a duel of their own kind. He took a short breath.

“Perhaps I also require more proof of faith from you, or hasn’t that come into your reasoning?”

“Are you suggesting that I’m keeping you out of Sith Intelligence affairs?”

He gave Tayleen a sideways glance before nodding to the Minister.

“I would appreciate more transparency from you, then I would consider opening myself to your scrutiny. Just keep in mind that I’m not here exclusively for the war effort.”

Tayleen heard his cautious, conciliating voice echo in her head while she let her thoughts drift towards her children and the apartment home. The empty bed she would return to.

“I don’t understand,” Lana said. “After so long I was hoping that our cooperation would be unquestionable, Agent.”

“Ah,” she suddenly raised her head. “Yes, well I have my opinion of you, Lana. You have yours about me, I’m sure.”

Her red lips pouted and Tayleen crossed her arms. “Despite our differences, I was hoping for us to be looking in the same direction, standing against Zakuul.”

“And we are,” Thexan told her though he was looking at Tayleen. His brow creased as he straightened his back. “If it’s any consolation, I could bring Lana with me for added protection. And that way there won’t be any doubts regarding my loyalty.”

“On Zakuul?” Surprised, Tayleen clenched her fists. “But I-” she cut herself short and as she came to realize it, she felt her lekku twitching with irritability. “Oh, of course. There are no non-humans there.”

She could see Lana’s nostrils flaring slightly even though she sat perfectly still.

“It would be a reconnaissance mission as well as recruitment,” the Sith said. “If you worry that I may nourrish resentment against Thexan, you can rest assured. Without him I may never return from Zakuul.”

Tayleen brought her silent questioning upon Thexan and he closed his mouth to calmly thin his lips, reassuringly reaching over to her. His hand was warm and soft as he held hers. She wasn’t used to displays of affection in front of others. She almost wanted to apologize but there was only one question in her head.

_Why her and not me?_

The twins needed her. Zakuul was essentially humans and even a near-human species could be easily detected as an outsider. She was too close to him to stay objective towards the mission.

“Remember that he would be seen as a traitor in his own home,” Tayleen warned. “Your presence there would confirm his allegiance to us.”

“Your insight is noted. You have my gratitude, Agent.”

With those last words she rose from her seat and saw them towards the door.

Tayleen felt herself shaking and her teeth were aching from how much she had been grinding them. Her only comfort was having Thexan holding her hand all the way towards the exit.

“I’m very sorry for the disturbance this may cause for you,” Lana added, trying to speak with empathy, but her enunciation still retained harshness around her syllables. “But we have to start taking action if we want to see a positive change some time around.”

So, she was sensing her distress as well, and she was acting annoyed. Tayleen let out a tired sigh and decided to ignore the obvious signs of jealousy from the Minister.

“I’ll make arrangements to have your business forwarded to your operatives,” she replied, blandly.

“No need, Agent. I’ve given them the necessary directives. You will be kept in the loop, naturally. I’ve lifted your restrictions and promoted you to the temporary rank of Deputy Minister.”

*

The sun was already rising over the distant horizon and the ocean was calm. The sky was bright red and pink and faded to dark blue where it was still night time but Tayleen only looked at the dark spots where she could still see the stars.

The breeze made her shiver in waves and she closed the silk robe around her neck, bringing her lekku over her shoulders for added warmth.

“It’s a bit chilly for a walk on the pier,” Thexan softly said to her. He wore a black outfit with a thick layer of armor. He couldn’t mind being outside. “Let me buy you caf.”

She nodded, knowing that refusing would only trigger something dark and evil and neither of them would be able to move past their disagreements. The eastern side of Ahto City had a market and small docks for speeders and leisure boats to harbor and rest while visitors made their purchases before going back to their homes and businesses offshore. The Selkath were spartan with their acomodations but even the more modest of them required some distractions and places to forget their professional obligations now and then. There were gardens and hidden speakers played light soothing music.

She nestled her cup of tea while they walked along the docks, basking in the sound of the waves against the boat and speeder hulls. Birds squawked in the distance and some of them had made their homes in the rooftops and underneath the walkways. Even if she was alone, she would keep coming here and remember this moment.

He held her arm and she felt his fingers tracing along her elbow, trying to catch her attention. His blue eyes looked pale and almost yellow against the rising sun. He kept his hair trimmed short, like the day she first met him, and he smelled of baby soap and after shave. A strange combination that she had learned to like. She managed to summon the courage to speak.

“When?”

He squinted and his face was stern with a sense of duty. “Tonight, maybe earlier if everyone is ready.”

She’d had months to prepare for this, it wasn’t coming as a surprise and yet she wanted to protest his decision. However she smiled and touched his armored chest. Even if she felt like crying, she remembered that he needed to leave and find a purpose. He hadn’t trained all of his life to be a father and husband.

He was a warrior. Nothing less. She had saved him so that he could save others.

“Thexan...”

“Yes?”

She hadn’t registered even saying his name, but she felt his hand over her fingers and he was leaning over her, eyes riveted on her and she was lost in her mind.

“I want you to go and do everything right,” she spoke with a low voice. “Do not fail us. Me, the twins. Make us proud.”

His expression of worry shifted, morphing into a satisfied smirk while his eyelids lowered and his back straightened.

“Are you asking me as an Agent of Sith Intelligence?” he asked her, brash and confident.

“I’m asking you,” she rectified, breathing erratically, “as your beloved. If that grants me any kind of authority over you. I ask you not to disappoint me. Do not disappoint yourself either.”

“That wasn’t my intention, Tayleen.” His eyes danced from either of her own and he squeezed her hand against his chest, his fingers fumbling as his thoughts rolled visibly in his mind. “In exchange for this, I want you to promise me something.”

“Please,” she exhaled and stepped in closer to prevent other people to overhear them. “Don’t make me blush or lose my nerve in public...”

His smile and light chuckle, bringing her even closer to him as he pressed a hand against the back of her neck, made her indeed blush and feel delightfully warm. His breath was upon her face as he whispered.

“It’s going to sound silly,” he started, pausing for effect or searching for words. “But I want to know you’ll be here for me. We’ve been together for so long, you’ve become my constant. Nothing else seems to matter when I’m with you.”

She forced a smile when she really felt like frowning with pessimistic fatalism.

“I will be here,” she told him with a nod. “Worried, as you know it, but I’ll think of you every day.”

It might be a week, or three. Perhaps a month or two. She didn’t look forward to counting.

Thexan leaned in and she kissed his parted lips. Even as they were chaste and fairly reserved, she spotted a Selkath who stopped in his stride and watched them, his tendrils shivering with cheer.

“We have an audience,” she told Thexan, breaking the kiss.

He looked around and the Selkath moved along to their business. The sky had turned bright yellow and cyan and daylight illuminated Ahto City. Feeling exposed and out of place, Tayleen pulled on Thexan’s elbow to continue walking towards their speeder.

“I’ve added security measures and surveillance to 2V’s functions,” he informed her. “We moved his charging pod into the house last night while you were sleeping with the twins.”

“You did good. I always prefered him to stay on the Phantom for maintenance but, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, am I?”

She climbed on the speeder bike and watched him put on his gloves. “One day,” he said. “When the kids are old enough, we’ll go on missions together. Just you and I.”

He took the controls and she circled her arms around his waist. Thexan moved her joined hands so that they would sit more securely against him.

“I always forget you’ve healed already,” she commented against the back of his head. “Or your tolerance for pain is far superior than my own.”

“Even if you did hurt me I doubt I would mind at all.”

She smiled wickedly. Their last sparring session with training sabers had resulted in a few bruised finger nails and she knew he was letting her win at the end. She squeezed his torso and let out a long sigh into his neck. When they flew across the air, barely meters above the surface of the ocean waves, she felt more free than she had ever been. Peace was all that she lived for now that she knew it was all coming to an end.

He was a warrior and he needed to end the war he had started, even if he had only been a tool in his father’s dark rituals.

When arrived at her white, spotless home she hurriedly kicked off her boots and ignored 2V’s chipper greetings.

“Good morning, Masters! I’m delighted to say that the young children have been adequately fed and changed. They are now playing in their pen and under my constant watch. I have prepared a meal for lunch, should you wish to eat after your interview with Minister Beniko.”

“Have the Phantom prepped and ready for departure tonight,” Thexan told the droid, removing his cloak and hanging it in the concealed closet behind an invisible wall panel. “I’ll be leaving for a mission. You’ll be in charge of security and chores in my absence.”

Tayleen looked over her shoulder and caught his steel gaze. He was intensely focused, driven by imminent deployment and she felt her own heart pounding as she admired his every move. He released the side clasps of his chest armor.

“Absolutely, Master Thexan,” 2V-R8 obdeniently bowed his triangular head. “I shall download improved security protocols to my programming.”

“You won’t have to worry,” Tayleen assured him. “Apparently there’s a whole department of Sith operatives ready to evacuate us in case of emergency.”

She dreaded the potential invasion of Manaan. If Arcann were to find out she lived there... Thexan frowned skeptically as if to contradict her speculative worries. Being able to read every facial gesture, to share a look now and then or to let him feel her with his lips was the dimension she’d missed in her previous relationship. His face made everything easy and she felt blessed that he never made her feel ashamed or scorned.

“What would you like to do for the remaining hours before departure?” he asked her seductively.

She forced her brow to relax and bent her lips upward to project some sort of joy.

“I have no preference. As long as we’re not talking about difficult topics, I’m up for anything.”

They agreed to spend the day like it was any other, to look after the twins as they learned to play with toys - actual toys, animal-shaped plushies, and miniature droids made for toddlers. Hearing Zherrys laugh while she tried to grasp her tiny hands around an automatic bouncing ball made Tayleen’s worries seem trivial. Ceyrin was babbling and having senseless conversation with Thexan, who took on a very serious face and was probably practicing his own way to train the very young boy to speak and listen. Tayleen held Zherrys in her lap, stroking her immature lekku and fetching the toys she was tossing away while squeeling.

_Don’t cry. It would ruin everything. Keep smiling._

She had convinced herself that she would be capable of being on her own to take care of the twins. There was no shame in relying on 2V for chores and even to distract her children if she ever needed to nap.

When they were done in the nursery and Ceyrin and Zherrys had had their fill of fun, she fed them and sat for a while. Thexan was in the next room but she needed the alone time.

She had prepared for this on Berith.

There was no way she could imagine Essan ever becoming a true father for the twins unless he discharged himself of his titles, his responsibilities. Choosing to start a family with a Sith had been a mistake, and their decisions from that point had only encouraged her to look elsewhere for stability. Kaliyo was too unpredictable and clearly didn’t like being around kids. Vector was a descent candidate but she was a bit apprehensive of the Hive. Doctor Lokin was also a good choice for a father but she didn’t want the Empire knowing too much about her children’s genome.

Tucked in and warm in their cribs, the twins slept soundly when she was out the door. She found Thexan leaning over the transparent railing on the balcony of the master bedroom. His broad shoulders were slouched and his feet crossed as he looked down. The wind blew across her face and she wrapped her cardigan more tightly around her neck against the fresh breeze.

“It’s funny,” he said when she joined him to look at the waves. “Time flew by in six months, but it seems to stand still when I’m just about to leave.”

“Is this what you wish to do with what’s left of today?” She worried he was postponing something important, something she would regret not doing.

“I don’t want to reflect too much on the negative,” was his reply. “We’ve had time to appreciate our time together, four hours won’t change that.”

Tayleen took in a shaky breath and clenched her jaw tight. “I won’t forget you,” she weakly told him, batting off tears from her lids. “This is two people entering and leaving the children’s lives in their first year.”

He stoicly stood next to her and kept his eyes to the horizon. “I’ll be coming back.”

“I want to believe that, I do,” she made herself sound bitter for better alternative to crying. “But experience makes me prepare for the worst. That’s all I can do right now.”

Even though she wouldn’t confront her fears, the fresh ocean breeze waved away her semblance of calm and she could clearly see Thexan going back to join Arcann on Zakuul.

“Essan left because he had no choice,” Thexan told her softly, oblivious of her contemplations. “He faced my brother and my father so that I could be with you. I won’t throw that chance away and I swear by all the gods that I will return.”

“Part of me wishes you had never come,” she said after a sigh. “You’ve changed everything I held true. You made my life... into something good. Of all the mistakes I made-”

“Don’t talk that way,” he interrupted her, turning her by the shoulders so she could face him. “I warned you, there’s no point in discussing this situation.”

Her mouth gaped. What was he trying to hide?

“But I want to,” she protested and pushed away his hands from her arms. “I need to say what’s on my mind.”

His eyes watered as he peered into her glare. “Okay,” he nodded. “I’m sorry for dictating your choices.”

“Please...” she touched her forehead with annoyance. She was sick of how nice he was. She was tired of his constant apologies when she got upset. She was angry at his tolerance and his patience with her whenever she was feeling down. “This won’t last, no matter what you decide. There is something dark looming over us and even I can _sense_ it. I feel it creeping up in my head during the day. I keep it silent at night because I’d barely get any sleep. I thought- no, I believed that was me. I never wanted to part from you, too afraid that I might do something horrifying unless you stopped me.”

His chest heaved as he tried to stay calm while she spoke, and he took support on the railing, almost catching it suddenly.

“I never had to stop you from doing anything bad...”

She searched his face and resisted the temptation to simply hug him. He was not at fault here. In six months, she’d never noticed anything to blame on him. Her arms folded against her breasts and she couldn’t feel her lungs fill because of the wind.

“It will be easier if I just tell you now.” If she believed in any deity, she would have prayed that he would understand. “I don’t do well with happiness. I pretend like everything’s fine -and that usually does the trick to live another day - but if I listen to myself-”

Her heart jumped when he stepped in to press his lips upon hers. He kissed her so hard she felt numb and couldn’t breathe.

“Thexan-” she pushed him away and began to protest. “You have no idea how-”

“Shut up, Tayleen. Please...”

His passionate intensity baffled her so much that she forgot what she was saying and she responded to his kiss, bruising their lips and pulling at the collar of his shirt while he was tightly holding her waist.

_That’s it. Just fuck him and everything will be fine._

The temptation grew on her but her heart wasn’t in the right place, aching with every beat and bitterness built up in her throat. Her eyes burned. Her fingers tingled and went cold. Her knees buckled.

Thexan parted from her, shakily catching his breath as he supported her, and she latched on his shirt to regain balance.

She kept her eyes low.

Losing him would mean the end for her, for the coalition, for her children. If she didn’t run away now she may never be able to pick herself up.

She had been hiding for long enough.

“Do not betray me,” she rasped, then raised her searing eyes at his baffled face. “Or you’ll never see me again.”

 

* * *

 

His chrono buzzed quietly at his wrist and he parted his eyelids in the dark. The blinds were drawn over the bedroom window while most of his spare time had gone between the sheets with Tayleen. It was time to get up, clean up, get prepped and say goodbye.

If only he could muster the strength to wake her and slightly push her aside to release his right arm.

They were naked and spent, both of them, after hours in bed while 2V was looking over the twins in the nursery. He raised his head and willed for the night lamp to turn on so as to look at her peacefully sleeping face. He studied each shape, texture and color to remember her clearly in times of need. He touched her bare shoulder and relished at the softness of her skin. She was even more soft between her thighs where he loved to kiss her. His insecurities had flown away long ago, when he’d discovered intimacy and sharing something special with her.

Now... Now he was sad that it functioned as a buffer when they couldn’t express themselves with words.

Tayleen slowly opened her blue eyes and stretched her arms and legs like a feline. Thexan gave her a longing look.

“Time to go?” she asked, her voice still numb and dry.

“I still have a spare few minutes.”

Her ocean eyes squinted and she touched his face slowly, rubbing her thumb over the growing stubble on his cheek. Thexan held his breath.

_Please say something._

Her eyelids lowered and she inhaled deeply before getting out of bed, revealing her bare back and bottom to him as she headed for the refreshers. He heard the water running. She leaned across the door frame, her lekku hanging over her shoulder as she beckoned for him.

He did need to shower before gearing up.

His normal cleaning regimen took five to ten minutes, hair trimming included, but Tayleen managed to prolong that process to almost a half hour. She hurriedly got him aroused under the pouring water and he entered her with ease, then felt her coming to completion barely minutes later and she was trembling, almost shaking in his arms while he prevented her from slipping off the wet floor. When standing together he held her up and her C-section scar was the curved mirror of his lightsaber wound. A sign, he believed, that they were somehow destined to share this life and enjoy each other’s bodies. There had been a time when this simple interaction was impossible for him, before they’d taken the time to practice and discover each other’s comfort zones. It was only a month ago that they started taking Ho’din herbal medicine for birth control.

There was no where or time in his life when he would accept conceiving a child of his own, not when he knew whose blood coursed through his veins.

For the rest of the time he spent getting dressed and making some tunings on his lightsaber, Tayleen brought a bag for him at the house entrance. She was wearing a flowy gown over loose silk pants, almost as white as the walls in the Manaan home. Her outfit was immaculate and he hadn’t seen it before.

“I baked you some protein bread,” she worriedly said, “you’ll find some music and movies on your datapad, too. In case the travel there gets long.”

His hand brushed against hers when he took the bag and he nodded gratefully.

“You thought of everything,” he affectionately commented. “Lana will be jealous.”

“I’m sure she will have her say when you get back.”

Her voice was low-pitched and harsher than he was used to. Thexan gently brought her close to lay a kiss on her forehead. She pressed against his armor and let out a long breath. His heart filled with grief but he kept his mind clear of hasty presumptions.

“I suppose I should call you Deputy Minister now.”

She rolled her eyes up to the bright ceiling.

“Only on comlink and when Lana is watching... she would like that.”

Their long eye contact ended as they broke into giggles and she leaned against him again. Thexan circled an arm around her shoulders and fought hard not to let his emotions get the best of him.

She adjusted the cloak over his shoulder. “Take care of my ship, will you?”

“Come with me at the spaceport,” he whispered back. “I hate to leave you here.”

“What would be the point?” she bitterly retorted, rubbing a thumb over his chin. “I wouldn’t have the heart to make the way back alone.”

The way her lower lip trembled or how her eyes avoided him was indication enough of her distress. He shared her sadness but this was not goodbye. He needed her strong and valiant. He needed to believe she would not cry after him. This was the first time they would be apart since--

“Give the twins a kiss for me,” he told her, cutting his thoughts short. “I’ll try to send you an update whenever it’s safe.”

She raised a lineless brow. “Against Lana’s directives?”

“Mhm.” He bent down to kiss her lightly. “As soon as we’re in the clear.”

Her response was a deep, longing embrace and he felt his throat lock when he heard her ragged breathing. He knew all too well how hard she punished herself for seeing people walk away.

_Please. Please don’t cry for me._

He had found her alone, pregnant and vulnerable. It had made no sense to him when he found her on Berith. Being together had given both of them direction and meaning to their lives.

She opened the door for him and watched as he made the short walk towards the speeder bike. The wind made her clothes flow like sails on an antique boat. She crossed her arms against her breasts and squinted her eyes in the light of the setting sun.

Thexan turned away with a smile. His heart was aching madly. His fists clenched too hard when he held the bag. His eyelids pressed together and let moisture out when he put on his mask and threw the black hood over his head. She couldn’t see him shaking when he grabbed the steering handles, but he hoped she knew how much he was going to miss her.

 

*

 

The Phantom cruised through hyperspace towards the Outer Rim and Zakuul. On the third day of travel, Thexan had left his armor to the cargo hold and used the different workout equipments that Tayleen had installed there for herself and the crew. It was only himself and Lana on board but he spent most of his time alone. There were two more days to go. The Phantom was a fast ship, and thanks to Scorpio’s fine-tunings it could move across the galaxy as fast as the more powerful starfighters in the Imperial Fleet.

He kept his back turned at the door to do his physical training even though he could sense Lana moving around the ship and he’d stop whenever her presence got close. He didn’t like appearing breathless and sweaty in front of the Sith.

His abdominal scar was fully healed and he only begain straining from exercising after several hours. The Force helped improve his stamina and he found that keeping himself fit and combat ready was the best use of his time. He had packed training staves and sabers to keep up with sparring sessions, should Lana feel bored enough.

“We’re approaching Wild Space.”

He looked up from his datapad and pulled the in-ear sound system plugs to hear what she had to say. Lana was standing over his cot, arms folded authoritatively as he was relaxing, wearing only his sleep trousers and a black tank top. He paused the animated cartoon he was watching and sat up.

“We won’t be near any Zakuulan patrols until we pass the Hydrian route. Even then, we still have lee way to find Asylum.”

“You know safe havens around Zakuul?” she asked with skeptical surprise in her tone.

“One safe haven,” he acquiesced, leaning his elbows upon his knees. The floor was cold through his socks. “Asylum is a base for renegades and deserters who are feeding Zakuul with smuggled goods from the rest of the galaxy. It’s the underworld of the Eternal Empire outside of Zakuul.”

“Why haven’t you told me about this before?”

A shine of yellow danced across her iris and he felt the heat of her spiking rage. She kept her emotion in control and her face remained cold as ice.

Standing to give her proper respect and to take the conversation somewhere more comfortable, Thexan returned her look of defiance.

“We can’t let anyone know we’re coming. Had I informed you about its existence, you’d have sent your operatives to scout the planet prior to the mission. That’s something you would do, because it’s by the book and it’s the sensible approach.” He picked up a cup of caf from the dispensing machine near the stairs. He handed to her a sweetener satchel and a plastic stirrer. She was caught off guard and couldn’t refuse the drink. “We’re trying to be as covert as possible. News of Sith presence will spread faster than we can handle. Once we meet our contact we need to extract ASAP. I promised Tayleen nothing would happen to her ship.”

“You seem at ease with this plan.”

Thexan faced her with the patience to receive more criticism. He felt his left brow raise when she kept silent.

“Until not so long ago this system was my home. Pardon me if I’m not yet ready to disclose every detail of it to Sith Intelligence.”

Her nose crunched up with restrained scorn. “What if Tayleen were in my place? Would you have kept her in the dark as well?”

Thexan recognized the anger and hatred that crept up in his heart and he folded his arms tightly, aware of how that gesture put the accent on his muscles, and took a deep breath to steady his reasoning. She was Sith, but she was also a person barely older than Tayleen. She seemed younger, in some aspects, but lonely. She was doing a great job at keeping her private life confidential and he didn’t know if she usually drank caf by herself.

“All things in good time, Minister. We are equally at risk in this mission, but if it would make you feel safer, know that I have no intention of disappointing neither you nor Tayleen. She values your work, even if she won’t openly admit it.”

Lana lowered her eyes and inspected her warm drink. Did she not like it?

“She and I never really quite hit it off. From the start, we had disagreements regarding operational methods. But I stood my ground and climbed up the ladder. Darth Marr did his best to keep us apart, as if he knew we clearly wouldn’t be working together after Yavin.”

Her voice died as her thoughts trailed and he sensed her stark neutrality dive into grief. She blinked a few times and he pinched his lips to a sad smile.

“You and Marr,” he asked her quietly, “were you close?”

“He was... invested in me,” she defensively replied. “Even if there weren’t many trustworthy allies within the Empire, he did his best to accomodate me, to put my skills to use. He was like that. He-” she interrupted herself and faced him, even though he wasn’t about to interrupt. “He was like a father to me.”

Her expression was reminiscent of Tayleen when she recollected about the early days of her pregnancy. She told Thexan she had received the protection of Darth Marr as well as his moral support, even when she was all alone on Berith. From what he knew, Marr was more of a father to his people than Valkorion had been a father to his own children.

He had so many questions for the Dark Councilor, and he genuinely wished there was still a chance out there that he could ask them.

“We won’t forget him,” he said. “When we go looking for Essan, I’m sure Marr won’t be far away.”

“I appreciate your kind words, Thexan. It’s not every day that I get to be so open about these things.”

Claming up at her and leaning back against the table, he took a sip of his cup and cringed when he realized he hadn’t sweetened the caf. Lana was standing awkwardly in front of him.

“Did I just make you nervous?”

He hadn’t planned on talking to Lana for so long but it had to be expected in such confined spaces for an extended period of time. Trying to accept that he had learned how to manage his bouts of emotions and not to let his memories creep back to the surface, he shook his head and smiled.

“I’ve only thought of something Tayleen and I were talking about, some time ago. It’s a rare thing to find friends in this galaxy, with the kind of work we do.”

She slowly nodded and made a face when tasting the caf, as if she disliked it. Placing the cup on the table she folded her arms and let out a sigh.

“I understand your attachment to each other. You could say that I envy it, though I wouldn’t want the struggle of mixing work with romance. It’s... messy. Part of me wanted it, in the past. I was lucky to have met the right person at the time.”

He tried not to lean forward in order to hear what she was barely murmuring, right above the sound of the climate control and engines. Lana blushed and her lips turned primary red.

“Who was it?” he bluntly asked. “I promise, this won’t leave the ship.”

The damage was done. She had taken the confidence route and now he needed to prove himself trustworthy. She swallowed and unclenched her jaw.

“It was Essan,” she softly answered. She inspired deeply and dared to raise a gloomy glare at him. “We were on Yavin 4 and we had just defeated Revan. He... showed me reason. Put me on the right path, made me stay true to my convictions. We never spoke of it again.”

“Revan,” he pensively said. “I remember hearing about that.”

The death of Lord Revan had occured merely a year ago, before the children were born. Before he landed on Berith. Essan and Marr had kept Tayleen’s pregnancy a secret, as well as any ties she could have to the Wrath. It was no wonder that Lana would believe he was available back then.

He did not recall going to Yavin 4. Zakuul had never intended to conquer that planet. It had never been in his father’s plans. Unless...

“It was our first encounter with Vitiate, before Ziost happened,” she breathily explained. “He had intended to use Revan for his dark ritual and make a rehearsal for what occured later on Ziost.”

For Scyva’s sake, every cataclysm had led them to Zakuul. Essan, Lana, Marr... While he was going from system to system to show off Zakuul’s military power, they were hunting down Vitiate and eventually would have discovered him in the guise of his father.

Had he not encountered Tayleen then they would have met him, one way or another. She would have become his enemy, having not spent almost a month in captivity, hanging on to his every visit and relying solely on him for salvation. They had become enarmored, he was sure of it, from the first time they had sat down together to look at the stars.

“It takes a specific combination of circumstances to find your heart’s desires,” he kindly said to Lana, his brow furrowed to conceal the awe he felt from pondering the past. “Even when a war rages and when the galaxy is screaming in pain. Once you find your capacity for love, your goals become clear. You want everyone to feel alive and safe.”

She listened with cold distance and her judging eyes did nothing to bridge the gap that seemed to form between them. Thexan stepped towards his cot and picked up the discarded shirt to cover himself. The temperature seemed to have dropped a couple of degrees.

“What will you say to him?” she bitterly asked. “What will be your excuse when Essan finds out you are sleeping with the mother of his children?”

He froze and returned her piercing stare, his chest tight as his heart began to pound. His jaw muscles tightened anxiously before he decided not to give her the satisfaction of a hot-tempered reaction. He finished zipping up the gray shirt he used to stay warm and sat down where he was previously watching cartoons.

“I won’t say anything,” he tiredly replied, “out of respect for his intelligence. We...” he caught his breath in a short pause, “we want the twins to grow up in a healthy environment, not surrounded by constant grief.”

She stood as a stone pillar, hands joined at her belt. “Taking a sabatical was a wise decision for you. Let’s hope this little expedition won’t bring out any old habits of yours.”

Snickering at the Sith, Thexan mulled whether or not to play along with the provocation. He laid down on his cot again, hand reaching for his datapad and ear plugs.

“I promise you, Minister, none of my old habits will interfere with my perfect record of professionalism.”

Bringing an arm over his head, he felt her rolling her bright eyes at him as his attention faded back into the animation show.

 

*

 

The scanners aboard the Phantom detected the mining station through the thick layers of gas, without any help from the navicomputer or any precise coordinates to direct his research. Thexan knew what to look for: a large technological object and structure old enough to have become the safe haven of criminals and fugitives for hundreds of years. It almost felt obscene to land Tayleen’s beautiful ship onto one of the rusty docks. He was willing to stand guard next to it if only to ward off pillagers, scavengers and thieves.

But he had work to do, and a list of names.

With all black as his outfit and silver armor plating, he strode through the streets accompagnied with Lana who did her best to conceal her blond hair under a simple hood. With his mask, he wouldn’t be recognized but being outwardly Sith-looking, and bringing a young woman into this hive of lowlives drew a different kind of attention. Men, for the most non-human and of questionable hygiene, gave her insisting looks, stopped in and stared if they didn’t blurt out impolite comments from afar. Thexan slowed, intent on reacting but Lana urged him to keep walking.

“No Force displays,” Lana muttered as she was keeping up at his right side. “I don’t want to end up _disposing_ of everyone on his station.”

“I’ve had comparable diplomatic negotiations,” Thexan spoke through his voice filter, grinning cheekily behind his mask. “You might witness one of my old habits soon enough.”

She passed him and he followed her, feeling his hands itch for his lightsaber when they walked between two industrial buildings and there were people living there.

He’d visited Breaktown once, at the foot of the Spire in the muck and dirt of Zakuul’s swamps. He had done so in his early teens and he remembered being led by one of his teachers in social politics. Jekal Gar was his name. The old man had later disappeared and Thexan never heard of him since being taught that Zakuul was only as great as its biggest weakness: the way it marginalized people who didn’t conform, those who fell by the wayside and couldn’t rebel.

Asylum was Breaktown outside of Zakuul, more wild and self-reliant. He noticed ships of all makes and eras coming to this place for trade. He saw species from all over the galaxy and it tugged at his aching heart that Tayleen and their children would have felt more at home here, in this dangerous jungle of diverse origins, rather than in the wealthy neighborhoods of the Spire where he grew up.

But Asylum was too close to Zakuul. Too close to Arcann. He even suspected that, if given the incentive, the exiled Scions would seek out the arrival of Force sensitive children for their own agenda.

“Are we in the right place?”

The abandoned factory looked deserted. They place was invested by womprats and mynocks and its main hall was left empty because of the smells. Lana’s face was crunched up with disgust, and Thexan had activated his odor filters.

“The deal is set to take place here,” he said, consulting his datapad. “I’ve sent out our ping ten minutes ago to make sure they would find us in time.”

He could sense people approaching. Four individuals. He heard the unclipping of a lightsaber from a belt hook. Raising his palms, he hoped that any surveillance or observers wouldn’t take her precautions as a hostile sign.

The sound of a whizzing bolt caught his attention and the Force guided his wits, projecting a barrier of invisible energy around him. The dart bounced off the sphere of protection as he turned and ignited his red plasma blade.

Two Trandoshans repelled down from the ceiling, shooting their crossbow blasters at Thexan and Lana, grinning maniacally to display their large set of fangs. Grayish green flesh burned as their lightsabers cut through the attackers, severing limbs and slitting bodies in two. A third hostile sprung from a window and lunged at Thexan with an energy staff.

“Behind you!”

Thexan was facing the Weequay as Lana had shouted the warning, sparring against the inferior weapon that the mercenary wielded. He had trained for months and the Weequay’s strikes were childsplay to parry. Thexan spun on his toes, slashing the staff and the person who no longer held it.

He heard screams as Lana held up a hand, crooking her fingers as the Force made an overweight human hang in the air, clutching at his throat to breathe.

“Are these the people we’re looking for?” she calmly asked, her piercing eyes fixed on her slowly dying target.

Directing his focus on the large man, Thexan flicked his thumb and index fingers, letting the Force twist the pirate’s cervicals with a loud crack. He slightly shook his head at Lana.

“No.”

She followed his gaze and he heard the last of their attackers fall to the ground with a heavy thud. More presences were being known and he directed his attention towards the back entrance.

“Drop the weapon!” commanded a strong, authoritative voice from above. “You too, cloak man.”

Thexan parted his arms to show that he’d clipped his lightsaber to his belt. “I’ve no intention to use it.”

“What about blondie here?”

A surge of hatred made his bones slightly shatter. Her blue eyes turned to flames.

“Show yourself,” she shouted. “Before I have your tongue removed.”

A loud chortle echoed across the building and the man who had spoken arrive from behind them. He held up a comlink that appeared to be linked to the hall’s sound system. His skin was dark and hair length was well over Infantry regulation for a former officer. He eyed them skeptically, casually holding an assault rifle.

“Relax. I wasn’t gonna shoot you.” He eyed both of them and his nostrils flaired. “You’re not here for the weapon deal, are you?”

“We might be,” Thexan answered, getting a boost of confidence as he recognized the man from his file. “In these times, any trustworthy assets are in dire shortage.”

“Trustworthy? Oh, oh! You didn’t just drop the T-word on Asylum.” He pointed his barrel in his direction before holding his gun over his shoulder. “What makes you think I could trust the likes of _you_?”

He exchanged a look with Lana, paused for a couple of seconds and brought his gloves hands up to his hood. Removing his mask, Thexan faced the baffled look of their speechless host.

“Koth Vortena.” Thexan shortly bowed his head as a salute. “Former military officer of the Zakuulan Infantry.”

In the silence, they could hear footsteps closing in as more men and also women approached. Their expressions were of utter bewilderment.

Vortena’s shoulders dropped as well as his jaw when his knees fell to the floor.

“Y- your Highness!” He stammered, hesitant to look up. “You were... buried, dead. We mourned you.”

He couldn’t deny that he felt somewhat upset to see the emotions in the man’s voice and expression. Every hench man and former Zakuulan trooper were kneeling, some even dropped their weapons. There was a time when this reaction would have been appropriate for the sons of Emperor Valkorion.

“My death was a cover-up... Things have changed,” he regretfully told the former Zakuulan soldier. He moved closer and held his mask under his left arm before stretching out his right hand. “Zakuul needs our help, more than ever.”

With a confused look on his face, Vortena grabbed Thexan’s forearm and was pulled up to his feet.

“I-- We will serve you, and you are still our Prince, no matter what they say.” He bit his lips and shook his head with a mix of fear and excitement. “I can’t believe you’re alive. You deserve to be on the Eternal Throne, not Arcann! No offense meant, Your Highness, uh... It’s just so much to process.”

Sharply nodding once, Thexan eyed the men and women who were taking hesitant steps closer. He turned to look at each of them. He took a deep breath through his nostrils.

“My brother has claimed himself as the Eternal Emperor but at an unacceptable price. I’m not here to ask you to return to Zakuul as soldiers, but as partners, experts...”

He looked at a younger man who seemed to have barely come out of the academy.

“Even if there won’t be another Valkorion - and I’m not here to ask for your help to reclaim the throne - we need to gather forces in order to stop Arcann and his murderous campaign. Whatever they are, wherever they come from, people must rally to protect the galaxy and what Zakuul stands for.”

Vortena’s mouth was gaping when he faced him again. Thexan felt a weight being removed from his back as he finished speaking.

“Please, I ask you to consider this.”

“You want a resistance?”

Courage grew among the gathering of ex-soldiers and they smiled, nodding approvingly. Shaking his head again, Thexan sternly lowered his brow. Lana stepped up to his level to add her contribution.

“It’s more than that. We need to think bigger.”

He drew another breath and summoned the memory of Essan, Marr, Tayleen... Three individuals that had come together to work and fight as one when all was lost, saving his life and making sure there was still hope for the galaxy. He had to pick up the effort and finish what they had started.

“We need an alliance.”

 

* * *

 


	14. Asylum

 

The nerve in his forearm tensed and made his elbow tingle painfully after the repeated shocks. The strikes were hard, rapid and precise. He held the sparring foil tight in his right-hand grip and sidestepped around the hangar floor, angling his body to avoid another attack. He was sweating and the air felt damp from the lack of climate control in the decommissioned building. Water pearled beneath the back of his tank top.

Lana spun on her toes and counter-attacked his defense, aiming high, low, and moved like the air when Thexan attempted to go around her fighting stance. She wore a black sleeveless top that matched his. The substitute sticks they used for weapons were nothing like lightsabers in terms of lethality, but each hit left a bruise from how much power and speed came out of their exercise. The usual hum of lightsabers was replaced with the swishing sound of sticks slashing through the air. Clashing plasma and energy was instead the dry and hard clap of ancestral sparring staves.

Breathing hard, yet slowly to maintain his connection with the Force, Thexan stayed primarily on par with Lana’s defenses and focused not to let her in on his next move. Anticipation was key. Connection was vital. She needed to fight _with_ him and not against him. If she wanted the slightest chance to survive a confrontation with his brother, she needed much more than a few sparring lessons with Thexan.

Like him, she had trained all of her life to become a weapon, but her mastery of combat techniques was less cerebral, more tuned into the dark side of the Force in order to dominate an enemy.

She sparred and batted off a few strokes from Thexan until she leapt backwards, rolling and taking a steady stance, one hand elevated as she summoned her powers. Bright, blue and violet arcs of pure energy emerged from her fingers, gathering into a massive sphere of electricity ready to fly and hit its target. Her eyes were full of rage and fire.

Thexan bolted to the side, rolled over himself and felt the static energy numbing his legs and feet as it barely missed him.

Getting back up on his feet, he eyed his opponent and a smirk twisted his lower lip.

“Control your anger,” he groaned, restraining a cough as he realized the static shock was reaching his lungs. Hairs stood straight on his arms and scalp.

Lana returned his smirk and twirled her foil to resume fighting. “What makes you think I lost control?”

Thexan caught his breath and winced, holding his side, then stepped forward with regained confidence.

“Arcann would take advantage of your anger, he is used to it himself.” He sighed, having not expected to have to remember in which ways did his brother differ from him. “He will try to get into your head.”

“I’ve faced Vitiate before, and I’ve fought Sith my whole life. I think I have what it takes to fight your brother.”

She raised her weapon when he got within three paces of her, so Thexan stepped around her in a tight circle. He felt his brow twitch with amusement when she gazed calmly, yet suspiciously at him.

“You doubt my intentions, still today.”

Lana changed her hold of the sparring stick, directing the pummel to the ground as she kept her defense concealed in her back with the Shien stance. “I’m always ready for surreptitious play within my own ranks. It comes with the territory.”

Stopping to talk straight at her, Thexan twirled the weapon and had it hang down hitting the ground to support his hands upon it like a cane.

“I could never take down Arcann,” he honestly confessed. “You could have me convinced and swear with my soul to topple his reign and have him fall from the Eternal Throne.”

He clutched at the pummel of the foil and unclenched his jaw muscles to continue. Lana’s piercing eyes bore a hole through his heart.

“But once he is under my blade, I would never take the last strike.”

Her face, otherwise closed and apparently calm, took on a pained expression. “He is your brother. I understand.”

“We used to be two sides of the same coin,” he proceeded to explain, still sensing her wariness. “He was my only friend, and I swore to protect him all of my life. He is the reason I am what I am today.”

“Because he could not be you,” Lana finished in his stead. “He fell in the battle of Korriban despite how powerful you both were as a team, facing the Sith when he wasn’t ready. You assumed he would be like you when he clearly failed to keep up.”

“You would be wrong to under-estimate him.”

Lana stared back at him with patience, lowering her shoulders as her relaxed posture wordlessly ended the lesson for that day. They walked towards the crates that were used as a makeshift bench for their equipment. She picked up water canteens and handed out Thexan’s to rehydrate.

He fought to keep his face straight when sorrow built up in his chest and he felt like Force-throwing everything across the hall to free his mind of the anguish. But that wasn’t like him, it was the pain talking. He had died, officially on his homeworld, but having lost his life as the brother of Arcann meant that he had yet to grieve the loss of his twin. He reasoned with himself, remembering that he was now among friends and that he’d gained so much more by losing everything else. It still didn’t feel real enough to replace the decades he’d spent picking up the broken pieces of Arcann, supporting him. Loving him. Simply being there when there was no one left to give his twin the time of day.

“This life, this... war,” he began, barely strongly enough to speak over a murmur, “it was never for him. He could have become a great athlete, an artist - anything else. Without Valkorion, our own father, he would have been a good man.”

And so would he, he thought to himself, had he not tried to earn their father’s approval through any possible means. He had dragged Arcann along in his crusade if only to keep his brother away from their father. In the end, they had grown apart and he had begun to feel Arcann’s resentment, years ago.

“Whatever happens from now on,” said Lana while he was still sorting through his emotions, “Essan is the priority. I believe he has the power to face Arcann, and Vaylin.”

“I wouldn’t assume too much,” he sorely replied. “Vaylin is something else entirely.”

“So you’ve told me. But that doesn’t change the fact that we need to focus on rescuing our own before winning the war in a single battle.” She shook her head and picked up her cloak to throw around her back. “Don’t despair, Thexan. We have yet to gather enough strength to infiltrate Zakuul. That leaves you plenty of time to spend with Tayleen, and the children.”

Her gaze was soft and her words meant well. She cared about Essan, perhaps as much as he cared about Tayleen but not as intensely. Knowing that the twins were Essan’s offspring only gave Thexan a valuable excuse to return home.

Never in his life had he imagined himself thinking of home a place other than Zakuul. There had been the Fleet, a single cabin aboard a flagship, and a field tent on a conquered world. But never a place where he would find a loving woman and her two babies.

It was night time when they moved back to their headquarters. His personal space on Asylum was a dusty office at the top floor of the abandoned building where Koth Vortena had gathered his discharged Zakuulan troops, mercs and pirates joining forces together. There was constant noise in the main hall. Workbenches, tables and racks were positioned for weapon and ordnance sorting. People came and went, bringing in new supplies each day, sometimes even adding more numbers to the ranks.

Thexan rarely showed his face. Only the first handful of Zakuulans knew who he was and why he was there, the rest only assumed he was a Sith warlord looking to make profit of the Eternal Empire’s domination over the Rim world economy. He didn’t need word of his return to spread out just yet. Giving Arcann any reason to believe he was alive would cancel all of their efforts. All they needed was to recruit as many eyes and ears as possible to observe the Fleet’s progression, to spy on the Exarchs if they could.

“Star Fortresses,” he repeated, letting Lana inspect his datapad. “They’re designed like the ancient Star Forge, but they are made to amass power and build droids, endlessly.”

He brought his hands together in the small of his back, looking down towards the main hall through the window. It was an observation deck for the former executive to keep an eye on his line-working employees.

“For how long have you known about this?” she cautiously asked.

Blinking slowly, Thexan swallowed to get rid of the blocking in his throat before answering her question.

“I had a look at the conceptual designs before they were validated. I didn’t know their construction had already started.”

He sensed her contained annoyance. “Do you think you could re-create the designs from memory?”

“Yes.” He turned towards her but stopped himself before going back into his seat behind the desk. “The same way I completed the Eternal Fleet’s schematics, and the Skytrooper programming lines.”

“I should call in Theron for this sort of thing,” she added with a sigh, placing the datapad upon the table with a loud clacking sound. She brought an ungloved hand over her forehead in tired thought. “At least we know what to look for.”

“You’ve mentioned the SIS agent before...” He was eager to change the subject. The constant focus on him and his past, that day, was getting to his nerves.

“Theron Shan, yes,” she politely nodded. “If we bring him on board, we might as well attempt to seek Republic help, as you’ve suggested. But his mother is neck deep in battles on Balmorra and Corellia. They have nothing to spare for us.”

He crossed his arms and pressed them against his chest plate. “The Sith Empire is ruled by Darth Acina, yes?”

Lana’s nostrils flared with despise. “Asking the Empress to join an alliance with the enemy would be worse than knocking at her door and spitting at her face. She is more concerned with the survival of what’s left of the Sith. The high ranking moffs and senators are being summoned to discuss a peace treaty with Zakuulan ambassadors.”

“It’s all over the Holonet,” he confirmed, exasperated by the news. “The diplomatic branch of Zakuul is expert at propaganda, thought manipulation. It’s done centuries of indoctrination over the planet and closed off its people from the rest of the galaxy to this day.”

“Starved and deprived, the Imperial high dignitaries will go to any lengths to safeguard their way of life. Whatever conditions and restrictions Zakuul will impose, they will accept.”

“And the Republic won’t negotiate on similar terms,” Thexan finally got back to his chair. It was rigid, and far from the comfort he was used to on Manaan. “I doubt we could build a sufficiently large army to fight against a single battalion of Skytroopers.”

Lana held his stare as Thexan clenched his teeth, trying to think of a better way to tackle the war, planet side.

“But if we have Darth Skordus among us, that won’t be a problem.”

He let a smile wave across his expression. “You seem awfully optimistic.”

She returned his smile, leaning backwards in her seat. “Pardon me for believing in our capacities. The work we do in Sith Intelligence has never met a task too great to undertake.”

While he had lost his family, his life, and everything that was true to him before he met Tayleen, Lana Beniko had lost her professional structure, her allies and more importantly the one friend she relied on the most. Hanging on to the hope of seeing him again was all that she had left. He could only show his support despite all of the facts that fueled the worry in his mind.

“Thexan.”

He tore himself from the reverie that kept drawing him back inward.

“How long has it been? Six days? That’s three times as long on Manaan.” Lana gazed at him with concern. “You know we’ve secured comm lines to this base, albeit temporary, it’s functional.”

“Are you giving me relationship counseling?” he forced a humorous crook of the eyebrow.

“Only to ease your mind. You have a family to look after. It was my understanding that you need to do right by Essan. Contacting Tayleen is the least you can do.”

He longed to feel the soft, warm embrace of his beloved. To smell the delicate perfume of her clothes - _their_ clothes - when walking into the bedroom, and to hold the children in his arms again. Their pure, innocent and joyful presences in the Force were replaced by a great void in him when he left Manaan.

“There is more that I need to do,” he spoke, steeling his heart. “If we want support from the Knights, we have yet to find those who will follow me instead of Arcann.”

“That’s a tall order. And we’re on Asylum, where I haven’t seen a single uniform, not even a badge.”

He nodded in agreement. “That’s why we’re going to Zakuul.”

She brought a hand to her forehead, pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Are you absolutely sure there is no other way? Why not send me there in your place to investigate?”

Someone knocked at the door before Thexan could begin to formulate a response. “Come in,” he called, and Koth Vortena appeared in the door frame.

“Sorry to interrupt, I got some intel about Enforcers heading our way. You might wanna check on that before we have to jump ship.”

“What do you mean?” Lana asked, standing up in a smooth motion. “I thought Asylum was safe from Skytrooper patrols.”

Vortena almost stepped back as she almost literally blocked the entrance in front of him and his shoulders shrugged defensively.

“Oh, this is much more than Skytroopers. Enforcers are a branch of Zakuulan Knights who patrol the fringe of the Empire. They recently decided to track down all dissidents and deserters. Arcann’s orders, apparently.”

Thexan felt a brutal kick in his proverbial gut when he heard mention of his brother. He met Vortena’s suspecting gaze and stood in turn.

“He wouldn’t know anything unless someone here got chatty.”

“Hey, my guys are reliable,” protested the former officer. “It could be that some of the mercs got a bit too excited and trusted someone less sympathetic to our cause than predicted.”

“So,” Lana crossed her arms, furrowing her brow, “there is a containment issue. That’s no surprise, if you ask me.”

She turned towards Thexan and he sensed the irritability she felt but her voice was soft and calm when she spoke.

“If the Knights are hunting down dissidents, there’s still a chance that they don’t know for sure _who_ called them here. It would be wise to make yourself scarce from now.”

“Also, Asylum is rather crowded for my taste,” Vortena added. “We should relocate now while our stocks are still a manageable size.”

Running was not in his habits. What Lana and Koth suggested meant that he needed to think ahead of his enemy and go somewhere they would least suspect. Manaan was out of the question; the Selkath barely tolerated the presence of Sith Intelligence in Ahto City. Having a battalion of ex-soldiers and pirates land on the oceanic world would be a punctuation short of an invasion to them.

“I have an idea,” he finally said, leaning over the desk. His eyes wandered over the galactic map. His heart pinched at his next thought. “We hide in plain sight.”

“Excuse me?” Lana retorted, joined in chorus by Koth. They furtively looked at each other with annoyed surprise.

Thexan pointed at his holo projector and zoomed in on a region of Wild Space, at the frontier of the Outer Rim. The travel would take two days at most, and the system was neutral...

“Bakura?” Lana stepped closer and propped her hands on her hips. “How safe is it?”

“It’s under Zakuul’s protection,” Koth replied, his voice going somewhat harsh. “You made sure of it, three years ago.”

“And that was during my tour without Arcann.” He breathed in through his nostrils and shifted to a pensive stance, covering his elbows. Bakurans wanted nothing to do with the Eternal Empire, and their small families of colonists barely protested the invasion. With enough discretion, Koth and his men would be free to come and go without scrutiny. “I know where the sentries are, where the security patrols go and how we can avoid detection from orbit.”

“And what would you do if Arcann finds you?” worriedly asked Lana.

“He won’t look there. Bakura is rich with minerals and Arcann needs the local cooperation. Their condition to keep working for us was no droids on their soil. I left a few orbital sentries over the main continents to keep an eye on the settlements. Nothing more.”

“You almost make it sound perfect.” Lana folded her arms again. “Almost.”

Thexan confronted her stare. “Let’s hear your idea.”

“Fine, but you might not like it.”

Koth gave Lana a wide-eyed look that suggested he hadn’t expected her to take that tone with Thexan. She merely registered his reaction with a gesture to close the door. Once they were inside the office, she placed her fingers tips on the desk.

“You should stay low. Let me and Koth investigate Zakuul. I want to know where and how to find Essan as soon as possible.”

“You talk about this outlander like he’s more powerful than your Sith emperor,” Koth said, skeptically shifting his posture to look at Lana.

Her eyelids batted slowly before she turned nothing short of menacingly towards the Zakuulan.

“This outlander managed to kill _your_ emperor,” she hissed. “You tend to forget that.”

“Still,” Koth retorted, shaking his hairy head, “Arcann froze him and now we have to pick up the slack. Sorry if this may sound harsh to your little enterprise, Lana, but we have here an actual, bonafide, _living_ Prince of Zakuul. You’re telling me we still need to rescue your Sith because, what? Was he your boyfriend or something?”

Before Thexan could raise a hand to stop him from talking, or to stop Lana from lashing out, a powerful wave of Force knocked Koth’s body against the wall and his feet hung in the air. He clutched at his throat, desperate to liberate himself from an invisible choke hold around his neck.

“What is that I hear?” she softly asked. “Are you trying to anger me or is it just in your character to speak out of turn?”

Thexan eyed her coldly. “Lana... Stop.”

Koth sighed and gasped heavily when she released him, but the dark side left fiery remnants in her eyes.

“Of course, _my Prince_.”

Rolling his eyes, Thexan went to pick up a heaving and coughing former officer from the floor and he patted him on the back.

“The outlander was - _is_ a good friend of mine as well. He and other important people have saved my life, Koth.”

“I- uh... apologize, Your Highness. Ah! Slip of the tongue...”

Thexan couldn’t refrain from smiling. “Go with Lana, show her around the Old World if you can find more sympathizers.”

“Oh yeah, can do,” he rasped.

“The Old World?” Lana repeated, slurring the syllables as if she was repeating an insult.

“Zakuul’s first great city before the Spire was built next to it,” he explained. “The only thing I know outside the Spire is that not all Zakuulans bow to the Emperor. Not even during Valkorion’s time.”

Koth, scratched his neck, resentfully gazing at Lana. “You’ll have a great time there! It’s so authentic and hospitable. I’m sure even the Heralds of Zildrog will greet you with a smile.”

Vortena’s malicious grin faded as soon as he met Thexan’s disapproving expression.

“Koth, what do you mean?”

“I- uh...” The man raised his palms and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner. Arcann has lifted the zoning restrictions in the Old World, letting the leash loose on the Heralds with the condition that they look after the city. The Knights got more slack to go after the ones like me.”

This wasn’t good, not at all. For decades, his father had taken control of the law and order that insured peace all around Zakuul, as far as the Empire could reach. The Heralds of Zildrog were a malevolent, apocalyptic sect who favored death over life. Why would Arcann allow them to roam free?

“And the Scions, do they get to have a say about this?”

There was an uncomfortable silence before Koth cynically shrugged.

“As far as I can tell Arcann’s the only one pulling the strings now. He’s made it fairly clear that he won’t share the power and decided to rule over Zakuul like a tyrant. Again, no offense...”

“None taken,” Thexan exasperatedly replied. He crossed his arms and sighed, running his options mentally. “Zakuulans are turning against one another because of my brother. We need unity, and a real base of operation.”

Lana appeared to relax and she craned her neck, limbering up her cervicals.

“If Bakura is a sound enough plan for a base I’ll have my operatives sent over to investigate. Let’s not take any chances.”

Thexan gratefully nodded. “I know I can trust your judgment. And Koth?”

The man instinctively stood at attention, but kept his hands slightly parted from his sides. “Yes?”

“Look after Lana for me. She may be a remarkable Sith, but you know Zakuul better than anyone else here.”

“Aye,” proudly acquiesced Koth. “I think she can handle herself? But, whatever you say. You can count on me, Thexan. Lana, shall we commandeer our first ship together?”

Her face crunched up with annoyance. “Don’t you own a starship?”

“Me? Pfah...” He looked sideways, and his eyes darted quickly towards Thexan for unspoken assistance. “I’ve always had a transport available in my service days. That didn’t change just because I’m no longer on the Eternal Empire’s payroll.”

Smirking and tired, Thexan thanked the stars for the discrete chime he heard coming from his comlink. The device on his wrist showed the encryption key for Tayleen.

Koth and Lana had their sights on him while he consulted his datapad.

“Needed somewhere?” inquired Lana.

“We should call it a day,” he answered, switching off the device. “You should take a Zakuulan shuttle to avoid raising suspicion.”

Koth bit his lips and shifted his weight from a foot to another. “I was hoping you’d let us borrow that Phantom-class starship of yours. Been dying to try my hands on that baby.”

He tried to smile, but Thexan only managed to grimace irritably at Koth. “That _baby_ isn’t leaving my sight. No discussion.”

He politely excused himself before leaving out the door and taking the corridor towards the cargo lift.

He had wished to stay and take part in the light-hearted exchange between Koth and Lana - their interaction was refreshingly distracting - but if he took that evening’s decisions into consideration, he needed a change of plans for himself. The elevator stopped with loud rusty cranking sounds at the top of the building where he had his personal quarters. It was no bigger than a small, single-room apartment where the bunk bed was over the desk space and facing a water basin with shower cabin. He used his datapad to answer Tayleen’s call once he had rid himself of his armor and was lying on his cot, lights dimmed so that she wouldn’t catch sight of his precarious lodging.

The screen was dark when it connected. Then the light was green when it appeared, showing Tayleen’s silhouette in infrared vision. There was slight movement and the sounds of ruffled sheets as she placed her own comm device next to her pillow. He saw her sleepy eyes as they struggled to open and look at him.

“Sorry for waking you,” he murmured softly.

Yawning first, she smiled afterward and her left hand moved next to the bottom edge of the screen.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, settling back down on her other hand over her pillow. “How are you?”

He missed her and that was all he was able to feel. He propped the datapad between the mattress and the wall and brought his arm under his head to more comfortably look at her. Her smile widened as she slowly blinked her eyelids.

“Lana encouraged me to contact you, and then you called,” he announced, idly letting his fingers trace her picture on the screen.

“It must be a sign,” she told him with an even softer voice. Her attention was drawn towards something out of the screen and she shushed.

“Are the twins with you?”

Her eyes came back to gaze at him before she moved her camera and the picture panned towards her breasts. Ceyrin and Zherrys were huddled together and sleeping against her body. Her hand was seen tucking the blanket around them. Thexan felt his face melt as he breathed in deep. They couldn’t be safer, nestled so close to their mother’s womb where she could watch them even in the middle of the night.

“I can’t bring myself to leave them alone,” she told him with a pinch of distress in her voice.

She couldn’t be alone, he corrected within his own thoughts. He pressed his lips together and repressed the concerns he had felt for her, day after days of separation.

Her camera hadn’t moved back up to her face, but he could hear her breathing.

“Stay strong for me, Tayleen,” he spoke, cursing himself for not acknowledging her pain directly. Something warm and humid slid down to his bare arm. He resentfully dried his face with his free hand. “We have a group of allies in Wild Space. We’re building a base of operation to expand.”

“That’s good,” she answered timidly.

“There’s still a lot to do but I would rather be with you.” He paused, waiting for her to direct her device towards her face again and he held his breath. “There’s a risk that I could be recognized here. Arcann can’t know that I’m still around.”

Parting her full lips, she stayed silent for a few seconds. She rubbed her eyelids and frowned.

“I’ve made some progress with the operatives, they’ve been keeping track of our Knights.”

“Who?”

She blinked rapidly and his mind ran through the different encounters he had made during his last days on Zakuul. The Knights who had accompanied him and Tayleen, he knew their names... There was Vero, Ynda and - yes, that was him - Kesai.

“Our rescuers,” she answered with a tired smile. “They’ve come in contact with Sith Intelligence some time ago, and our agents have been coordinating with them.”

She caught her breath and he did the same, waiting on her every word.

“I want to grant them Imperial citizenship. It’s in my power as Deputy Minister.”

“It is so,” he pensively spoke, letting his sight fall towards the dark wall behind his screen. “We have time to discuss this.”

He watched her delicately scratch a spot on her neck. He noticed her expression looked tired now that his mind was focused on something else than his feelings for her.

“Don’t over-work yourself.”

“I don’t,” she said, yawning. “The days are long... I keep thinking about our future, and thinking about having my own garden, maybe even owning a few pets when the children are a little older.”

“Hold on just a little while longer,” he murmured gently. “I promise you, things will get better.”

“Okay, I trust you.” She rubbed her eyelids and her hand reached for the device. “It’s nice to see you.”

He stretched his lips and tried not to get emotional. “I’ll try to call more often.” He paused, pressed by the fear that she may say goodbye. “Would you like me to bring you something?”

“We have everything we need,” she sleepily replied, drawling her words. “We’re waiting for you.”

It was that simple, to need someone and to be needed in return. What more did he want to add to the equation? The last time he had lived in symbiosis with someone, the balance had shifted and he’d lost everything. What he believed was love had turned into anger and grief. Tayleen had introduced him to family, a sense of belonging and nurturing life.

Arcann was ruining everything they had both fought for, by letting Zakuul be controlled by zealots and criminals and hunting down its own people. More people like Koth who wanted what was best for their world.

He slept for several hours, then tore himself from his cot and showered quickly. His combat suit smelled of use, something he’d grown familiar with from years of military operations. And he was sure he’d worn the same pair of socks for three days. He wasn’t sure how long he would have to keep spares and they all had to fit in a rather small duffel bag.

His thoughts trailed while he drank caf, back to a time past when he’d carried that bag from a modest little house on Berith.

“You’ve been dissolving that sweetener cube for two full minutes now.”

He stared back at Lana who sat across the desk from him.

“Why are you not prepped for Zakuul, yet?” he remarked, not without a bit of teasing.

“It has come to my attention that I might need to confirm your location at all times,” she flatly answered, and leaned over the table with her arms folded upon one another. “How am I going to do that if I leave you alone?”

His fingers curled and his hand turned into a fist while his other hand held the cup of diluted caf under his lips.

“That’s quite the conundrum.”

“Your people may respect you and worship you as royalty, but don’t forget your place. Need I remind you of the criminal accusations that can and will be held against you in a martial court of law?”

Her fiery eyes burned and he stood her gaze, unwavering. “I understand how the shift of perspective may phase you-”

“No need to explain to me how different your civilization may be,” she interrupted, standing up and angrily pacing around, jaw locked tight. “We are on the same side now, but I won’t look up to you and assume to know what’s on your mind.”

“Fine.” He sank down his hot drink and stood in turn, raising his voice to her level. “Tayleen is on my mind, is that what you wanted to hear? I can’t sit here and stew thoughts of betrayal and grief while being told of all the atrocities being committed in my brother’s name.”

He took a deep inspiration through his nostrils, and decided from seeing her protesting stance that Lana needed more convincing.

“Being here, unable to act as myself, powerless in the face of the army I used to command... It’s tearing me apart, Lana. The only thing I can do is to stay focused on one important thing. Tayleen was right regarding certain aspects of this mission, and now I’m stuck here, fearing for my safety when millions of lives are destroyed.”

“So you know why we have to fight Arcann,” she fiercely spoke. “None of us are free unless he is defeated.”

He wished it were that simple. His heart was racing and he averted his eyes, trying to regain composure after letting out the intensity of his thoughts.

Not Arcann. The Empire. His father was still out there, he knew it.

“I know what I have to do,” he said more calmly, still looking away so as to conceal his darkening mood. “But I’m not ready.”

Lana nodded slowly and uncrossed her arms. “Koth and I will go to the Old World on Zakuul because we must. You...” Her palm faced downwards as she hesitated. “Look after yourself. You’ve done your job here. In light of the new events, it’s time you took a step back.”

“My work isn’t done yet.” His glare moved towards the window. It was morning and he could see the light of day entering the building. “I’ll do a recon tour of Bakura. We’re wasting time and resources here.”

“I’m activating the tracking beckon on your armor,” she simply informed him, pulling the datapad from her belt.

Scoffing, Thexan sat back at his desk and squinted his eyes at the Sith.

“Be watchful of the Heralds,” he warned her, using a diplomatic tone. “Try not to come into contact with them. My father spent decades keeping them in check and it was the Knights’ main purpose to fight them off the streets.”

“Have you tried negotiating?”

“Yes,” he answered her bitterly. “Zealots don’t compromise. Arcann made an enormous mistake giving them the Old World.”

“Understood, then.” She turned her heels towards the door but stopped herself before leaving. “I hope Koth knows what he’s doing.”

Thexan got up and sensed her genuine worry, her bare presence weighing in the Force with uncertainty.

“Keep me updated on your progress. I won’t be far.”

*

The commandeered Zakuulan shuttle was an old model that had long been abandoned and reconditioned by local mechanics on Asylum. Wearing his armor and mask, Thexan came down from the Phantom’s loading ramp to carry Lana’s things towards her new transport.

“It must be something,” Koth called out, carrying a crate of non-descript equipment upon a load lifter. The docks weren’t busy that morning. “Living like a fugitive, working with a strange Sith woman who won’t even give you the time of day.”

Thexan smiled but felt sorry his expression wasn’t shared. “Are you talking about me, or yourself?”

First stopping suddenly as he climbed upon the lift, Koth’s shocked eyes squinted as he burst out laughing.

“Ah! Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I-... I didn’t mean to suggest... Nevermind.”

He put Lana’s crate of things - what was in there anyway? Civilian clothing? Ordnance? Sith datacubes? - and shook his head at Koth.

“There are no ambiguous feelings between Lana and I. Were you concerned?”

Koth cupped his own chin to nervously scratch his jaw. “It’s not my place, I know that. And I don’t want to be pestering her with this while we’re on the job.”

“She is not involved with anyone that I know of,” Thexan told, hoping to ease the other man’s nagging questions. “Though you should respect her space.”

Almost cursing but muting himself with his palm, Koth vigorously nodded. “Give the Sith lady some space. Gotcha. Easy enough.”

They stopped talking continuing to transfer the cargo into the shuttle and Koth found Thexan aboard the Phantom while he was reviewing his own belongings in his assigned space near the aft of the ship. Once indoors, he removed his mask and expected Koth to begin explaining himself. His brow was lowered and Thexan could sense the doubt in him.

“So, now that I’ve got you alone, so to speak, can I overtly ask what kind of relationship you have with Lana?”

He felt the dip of despair in his heart that was a mix of Koth’s hopeless wishes and his own emotional troubles. Thexan ground his teeth while he summoned the courage to speak his mind openly.

“I have someone in my life,” he replied, still cautious but hoping his words got through to Koth. “It’s not Lana.”

“Oh,” Koth appeared surprised, relieved, and finally his eyebrows lowered sadly. “Why is that someone not with you? If you don’t mind me asking...”

“That’s okay, Koth,” chuckled Thexan. He fiddled with the clips that sealed his mask to his armor, looking down. “She is with her children, somewhere safe.”

He was dying to say her name, to bring up memories of her and share the immense joy he felt every time he saw her face. Koth bit his lips and nodded.

“Better that she stays there, then. It’s good to have someone. Gives you perspective, and drive.” There was an awkward silence during which Thexan pressed his lips together and waited for Koth to process his next thought. “So... who is the lucky lady who impressed a Prince of Zakuul?”

“I wish you wouldn’t ask that.”

He squinted at him, but Koth only folded his arms, a playful grin on his face. “Come on, now. I’d like to know who our next Empress might be.”

“Please...”

There had never been an Empress, none had come close to the Zakuul goddess Scyva, not even his own mother. Valkorion had been the one at the head of everything and Senya never held any title above Knight.

No Twi’lek could ever be seen, nor imagined, sitting at the top of the Spire...

His comlink chirped and he thanked the stars.

“Thexan,” rose up Lana’s voice from his datapad. “Is Koth with you? We have company.”

*

The sun was higher up in the cloudy skies when roaring engines deafened the people on the docks. Skytroopers rappelled down around the old shuttle and Lana’s red lightsaber sprung into action.

Masked and ready to fight, Thexan breathed in deep, braced his shoulders and stepped in front of Koth as a formation of three droids rushed towards them.

“We have to retreat!” yelled the ex-soldier. “Lana!”

“Enforcers?” Thexan asked.

“Get back in the Phantom!” Koth yelled back at him, using his rifle to shoot at the incoming Skytroopers.

“Lana, we’re on the move!”

“We can’t let them report back,” she shouted, her lightsaber piercing through a silver droid’s chest casing. She swung at another one, avoiding blaster fire. “Leave no survivors!”

Something weighed on Thexan, a strong presence, ominous yet familiar. It was determined to find them.

To find... _someone_.

“Enforcers,” he hissed.

He batted off incoming fire and threw his will forward, projecting the Force across the Skytroopers that fell back on the docks and lost their limbs in the process. Rushing towards Lana, he dragged Koth behind him with a slight Force-pull.

“What?!” he protested. “Hey, that’s not fair!”

Thexan reached up behind Lana and punched in the security code to open the shuttle’s loading ramp.

“They found us!” called the Sith. “You can’t stay here.”

“Neither can you,” he breathed, grabbing Koth’s right arm, physically dragging him up the ramp despite the protests and curses. “I’ll try to keep them off your tail.”

“But they’ve already landed on the dock!” Lana retorted, still clutching her lightsaber. “Get on board with us, Thexan.”

Once he had Koth tumbling through the hatch, he faced Lana and her sneer turned to an outright disgusted expression, looking at his mask.

“You must go to Zakuul,” he commanded. “Find Essan.”

He felt them getting nearer by the second. The tension rose as he let each heart beat press Lana even more to depart Asylum.

“The Alliance needs you!” she cried over the sound of the engines roaring to life.

Her fiery eyes were brimming with water and her reddened lips quivered with fear. He steeled his heart and mind. The Force flowed and engulfed him in a shield of void that absorbed all light and darkness erased him entirely from the visible spectrum of Force users.

Lana blinked her tears away and stepped back, utterly shocked as she watched him step down from the shuttle’s loading ramp. Troops were striding towards them. Thexan turned to face the Knights of Zakuul - all fear was gone. He’d known them all by their names, at one point. He had trained with most.

He had watched their brothers and sisters die on the battle front.

He heard the shuttle take off behind him when he ignited his weapon to defend himself. They used to fight side-by-side and now, unbeknownst to them, he was standing opposed his former allies. Two Knights charged him at once, wielding their saber spears.

“Sith scum!” cursed one.

Thexan raised a gloved hand and he flew off his trajectory, hitting the wall of the hangar behind him. The second Knight ignored his partner and kept charging, twirling his spear and attempted to strike Thexan down.

He wasn’t attacking Thexan but a Sith stranger who’d helped Koth Vortena, a Zakuulan defector and fugitive, escape from their arrest.

His spear was cut in half and Thexan let the Knight fall over head first, rolling over himself and Thexan kicked his opponent in the gut before knocking him unconscious through the Force.

This was all about survival, and getting rid of a threat - momentarily. Their deaths could wait. He needed to find out who was leading this investigation because these two were obviously the muscle. Where was the brain?

 _Mother_.

It hit him like a stone to the chest and he saw the slender figure coming out of the Zakuulan interceptor. She wore the bright silver armor of the Knight Enforcers. Her hair was still mostly dark and her eyes shone like the stars.

“You...” she began, her voice while low resonated in him. “Who are you?”

There were still many paces between him and the new figure standing at the end of the bridge and yet he felt completely trapped. She didn’t know... She _couldn’t_ know.

He’d lost count of the years but he had been so young when he’d last seen her.

Lightsaber still in hand, blade still active, he let his shoulders drop as he sighed with grief.

_Why have you left us? Look what you made us do..._

She cautiously shortened the distance between them, igniting her own lightsaber as she walked as gracefully as a feline, but her strength was undeniable.

“You will talk to me, Sith.”

He couldn’t run his hand over his face because of the mask, and he couldn’t speak because of the pain in his throat. She was coming close - too close.

 _You’re not here to help me_ , he thought.

The Force supported his fragile will and directed his attention towards the Phantom. It was barely a hundred paces away, if he could hurry.

He barely registered the sound of the furious blue lightsaber striking at him that he rose his red blade to parry. Senya was merely centimeters away from his face, had it not been for the armor, and he could smell her. He could remember what it was like to live in her company, to be fed by her and be read to at night when he had trouble sleeping.

Sabers clashed and hissed as colliding plasma energy sent sparks flying and the Force kept his instincts alive. She was fast, but he was stronger. She tried to slash through his skull, to cut him in half and to severe his limbs - in vain. He avoided, parried, blocked... and eventually stepped back before summoning his strength to push back her entire presence and send her flying across the dock. She fell and rolled backwards not far from where the second Knight was lying, unconscious.

Thexan didn’t wait to see if she was okay. Eyes blurred by raging sadness, he ran towards the Phantom. The ship’s computer registered his approach and the systems came online, glowing projector lights towards him and lowering the loading ramp.

He knew he still had to plug into the navigation and plan the route for Bakura. There was no time.

Once in the cockpit he pulled off his mask for some fresh air and to dry his face.

Senya. His mother was here. That was all he needed...

Could she understand?

The Phantom shot through the sky at a mind-boggling acceleration, knocking him against the back of the pilot’s seat and the stars shone across the dark canopy. The computer found a hospitable planet at random and automatically activated the hyperdrive. He squeezed his eyes shut, directed his thoughts and hopes towards Lana and Koth.

The jump lasted minutes and he was trying to make contact with Lana when the blue planet appeared in the middle of the viewport. There was a dark red nebula in that region and he knew he wasn’t far from home.

The computer navigation map indicated that he was still in Wild Space, orbiting Odessen.

“This is it,” he heard himself whisper.

The Force called to him, gave him the strength to shake himself out of his torment and prepare for landing.

“This is Lana, come in,” he heard calling through his comms.

The Phantom descended towards the undiscovered planet, scanner readings coming up empty in terms of technological settlements.

“Are you safe?” he asked.

“We made it through the patrols and the fleet... Surprisingly, Koth really knows his stuff.”

“I appreciate the complement,” Koth’s voice said in the background.

“What about you?” Lana asked.

The world was covered in oceans and the few continents were mostly mountains and luckily temperate climates.

“I’m safe as well. The Enforcer is...”

He stopped. There was no need to give out details that weren’t crucial to their advancement. His mother was not going to make their jobs easier.

“What?” Koth asked suddenly.

“I escaped,” Thexan finished, uncertain of what may come in the near future due to his mistake. “They’re still alive.”

“As long as they didn’t follow you,” Lana softly replied. “We’re about to land in the Old World... Koth is taking me to a place called Breaktown.”

“Right. Watch yourselves.” He held his breath, and switched the piloting controls to manual when the ship soon passed mountain tops and canyons.

“You too, Thexan,” said Koth.

Lana was last to speak before shutting off her comms. “May the Force serve you.”

He hoped it would, if he still had faith in what was left of his beliefs. Fate had been nothing short of treacherous to him, lately.

The tridimensional map scanner detected a medium-sized plateau at a respectable altitude yet sitting in the shade of a mountain and protected by a deep canyon. He picked that spot to set down the Phantom and rest for a while. The sky was blue through the canopy and he couldn’t hear anything but silence when the engines stopped.

Odessen. He’d never come across that system before. His scanners detected no life signs in the vicinity, having landed the ship made all of the wildlife escape the sound and wind provoked by the repulsor engines.

He stepped out the hatch and filled his lungs with cool, pure and breathable air. He smelled trees, grass, and the slight saltiness of the ocean. He saw birds flying inside the canyon. The plateau was wide enough to fit three other starships. The rocky formation bridge across the canyon to meet the nearby mountain, digging a slight cavern under the forest. The cliff was steep. Water cascaded down crevasses from the mountain tops.

Everywhere he looked, he saw a potential hazard for anyone distracted enough not to see the long fall awaiting every step. His deeply-honed combat skills heightened his awareness for possible hostilities and he waited and nothing happened. Surrounding him was the ambient, soothing energy of perfectly balanced Force waves. It felt like gravity was slightly suspending his weight when he closed his eyes. He achieved oneness with the Force in merely a second.

 _This is it_.

Unable to restrain a smile, fighting hard to rush back into the Phantom, he pulled up his datapad and began capturing the scenery. He walked up the rocky formations, crossed over a creek and went towards the foot of a waterfall. The sun shot its rays through the drizzle, dividing the light into a myriad of colors.

Switching to his positioning program, he marked the last known position in the region and committed the coordinates to memory.

Overlooking the plateau, he admired the reflection of the sun upon the shiny hull of the Phantom. The ship was a mirror, a beacon visible from outer space if one knew where to look. It went against all of his efforts to be stealthy. The blue sky that he observed into the silver plating was suddenly cross by a distant flying object that sore with the appallingly familiar noise of Zakuulan atmospheric flight engines.

Thexan rushed towards cover, hiding himself behind the rocks as he mentally added up the seconds it would take fore the interceptor to turn around and zero in on his position. He cursed between his teeth, lightsaber in hand.

His mask and gloves were still on board.

_Scyva save me._

The Zakuulan interceptor used by the Enforcers could land anywhere with automated piloting. Before it even touched down at a safe distance from the Phantom, Senya was already jumping down from the hatch and strode towards him. He could only stand up and watch her reaction.

It was like he had blinded her with powerful projectors in the dead of the night. She stumbled on feeble legs and dropped her lightsaber into the grass. Her chin dropped, too.

“Thexan... is it really you?”

He closed the distance between them and, still holding his lightsaber, hesitated before speaking. He searched her face for any sign of excuse, an apology, _something_ to make his pain more bearable.

“I- I’m sorry, my son. I’m so, so sorry.”

Her gloved hands covered her mouth as tears flooded her eyes, then her cheeks. He looked away, shoulders and neck tensing so that he couldn’t move anything else.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” he muttered, holding his weapon so tightly he felt numb in his wrist.

“What are you doing?” she burst out. “Have you defected as well...?”

Her bright blue eyes fell on the hilt of his lightsaber before nervously focusing back on his face. Thexan lowered his gaze and held out his right hand, barely thinking, feeling his control escaping from him.

“I made this because,” he said just louder than a whisper. “I lost mine in battle.”

Trembling hands of his mother gently pushed down his arm as she stepped closer and held him, fearful yet firmly by the shoulders. She was almost as tall as him. Her tired face filled his vision.

“You’re alive... Thexan, you’re alive! I couldn’t believe it at first, but I knew it somehow... Why are you hiding from me? What’s going on?”

He could feel it in her staring, the image he projected was that of his brother. He couldn’t shake the thought of that last moment he shared with him. Arcann, _why?_

_Why have you done this?_

_I’m dying, Arcann._

Senya shook him slightly as he had clammed up and tears brimmed over his eyelids. She loved him, but she also loved Arcann, and Vaylin. She would hate to learn the truth. It would destroy her.

“I can’t go back to Zakuul,” he growled at her, freeing himself from her. He turned his back and tried to make his way back to the Phantom but she walked after him. “Not like this, while Arcann is undoing everything we’ve fought for.”

“What do you mean?” Senya made him stop before he could set foot on the ramp. “Have you not spoken to Arcann since...”

“He can never know,” he sadly replied, and finally lost his balance, so much that he had to support himself on the ship’s steps. He gave up on his efforts to stand and eventually sat down. Senya knelt down to his level, her eyes full of questions. Thexan couldn’t look back at her. “I’ve changed, Mother. The things I’ve seen, and what I’ve done...”

He sniffled loudly and she hushed him, grabbing his hands between her own.

“I don’t care what you had to do to survive. You are my son! I’m always here for you.”

Her words sounded strange to him. Even speaking to her was a foreign concept. Thexan steeled his heart and dried his face in his palms before eyeing her. Her sadness was mixed with an apprehension he could only understand. She was plagued with a guilt he could never ease away, and he would never completely forgive fifteen years of absence.

“I know that look,” she bitterly said. “I abandonned you and your brother and sister when all I wanted was for us to be together. We were torn apart because I wouldn’t bow to your father, the Emperor, and I still won’t.”

She stood and looked down with renewed certainty.

“I left the Knights order when I saw what Arcann was doing. Leaving the Old World to the Heralds!” Shaking, she squinted her eyes tight and shook her head. “The Scions warned me so I followed Heskal’s advice and joined the Enforcers in order to be as far away from the Spire as I could, but I couldn’t leave Zakuul entirely and now I know why.” She took a breath. “I watched your funeral on a holonet broadcast. I believed it.”

“So did I,” he rasped, trying to express some empathy. Trying to remember what it felt like to be... a son. “They say I fell on the battlefield but...”

It was a lie. A terrible lie. Thexan thought quickly and tried to keep his anger contained.

_Arcann, if you can hear me..._

“It was Father,” he spoke and pulled himself back to his feet. “We were at the top of the Spire, back from the Core Worlds and he struck me down. I only survived because three Knights were there in time and helped me escape. It took me a long time to recover.”

Senya’s mouth was gaping but she was speechless. Whatever was left of her knightly strength had faded again and she was back to her frail and sensitive self. The one he called Mother.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, then bit his lips to keep them from trembling. “I’m sorry I said you were weak.”

“Oh, Thexan!”

The air was knocked out of him when she suddenly embraced him in her arms. Their armor plates collided with sound and he circled his arms around her as well.

She still had a slightly flowery scent in her hair. He felt her tears against his cheek. Her hands grasped at his head and his back. She felt so strong like this, and he let himself be slightly held while he allowed his guard to fade away.

“Let me help you,” she spoke to him. “The fugitive on Asylum, you helped him escape. There was a Sith...”

He held her at arm’s length and attempted to recover his composure. He had to go with this other lie that had spontaneously come to him. Even if it was closer to the truth than he would care to admit.

“I’m working with them,” he said, surprising himself with how hopeful he sounded. “Mother, please. Listen to me I’m-”

A traitor? A renegade prince? A coward?

“Don’t be afraid,” soothingly said Senya.

He nodded and instantly felt more comfortable when she took a step back, giving him space. There was no panic or resentment in her and he found himself smiling lightly. What was he saying again?

He thought of the Alliance he was building. The people who depended on him. Essan, Lana, Koth... He drew in a painful breath.

“Mother, there’s someone I want you to meet. She is far away from here and-” he fought through the shaking voice and the tears that built up in his eyes. “She’s very important to me.”

Alarmed, Senya nodded and silently agreed to follow him up to the Phantom.

There, he thought. Intel breach averted. Damage control. He wasn’t proud of having used Tayleen as misdirection in order to protect the Alliance but it was necessary.

His mother may be on his side, he just couldn’t trust her to be completely against Arcann. He wasn’t yet ready to force her into that whirlwind of despair and guilt.

 


	15. Odessen

 

The night air was cold on Odessen, even after year and a half of adapting to its changing weather and fluctuant climate, Tayleen still fought against the chill and resisted the urge to zip up her jacket even tighter around her neck.

Upon the clearing near the edge of the cliff, the new recruits debarked from the unmarked, unregistered cargo freigher looking around and all held nothing but their own grief and hopes for bagage.

Lana and Thexan were there, waiting for everyone to stand and listen to their welcoming speech. They wore their usual combat attire, unaffected by the climate.

“If you’re here today you don’t need to be told what this place is, or why you are all here.”

Mind delightfully numb from the cold, she never got tired of listening to that voice. The assertive, commandeering yet soft tone of a leader who had seen too much for his still young life.

“You know who I am and if not, you soon will. Before you start asking questions let me assure you one thing: we will all work together as one, for one goal. Some of you wouldn’t be safe without this alliance.”

His steel blue eyes scanned the group of eight people of various age, origin, profession. Some did not remove their helmets and sported their faction uniforms proudly. Tayleen tightened the arms she folded against her breasts and noticed a few gazes stopping on her person before suddenly averting away.

“I have led the attacks on the Outer Rim and the Core Worlds. I have worn the emblem of the Eternal Empire.” He paused for effect. “I am the brother of the one we swore to defeat.” She heard him take a short breath but his resolve didn’t waver. “Like you, I am not safe without allies. While we all may not agree or get along, I hope we can all count on each other for survival.”

The new recruits looked at one another and mumbled amongst themselves to comment. Lana took a step forward, hands clasped behind her in a rigid posture.

“You were Republic, Imperial, neutral or even Zakuulan. Today, you are allies. Conflict and unproductive criticism will not be tolerated. You were warned.” Her intense Sith eyes focused on a point near the ship. “We all have work to do. Agent Pansahu will show you to your sectors. Dismissed.”

Tayleen nodded and gestured for the group to follow her towards the barracks campment. The new tent had been set up earlier that morning. Modules and buildings were slowly being assembled to construct the base. Drills and bulldozers to dig through the rocks were working tirelessly throughout the day and night. The troopers, mercs and other fighters were eager to review their equipment while others directly went to sleep with noise-canceling ear plugs. She caught curious looks from those still awake, and for politeness’s sake she smiled back.

“Are you going to tuck us in?” asked a bulky human with greyish brown hair, wearing a red and white Republic combat uniform.

“I might,” she replied tiredly, “right after I finish cleaning the portable refreshers.”

“Aw. Shame.”

She was given a charming smile that she was too sleepy to respond to. She missed her bed. Living on Odessen was a lot of physical work and the twins weren’t very tolerant with her napping schedule.

A medium-height male Twi’lek of the Rutian blue skin approached her on her way out. He was Republic Infantry according to his white armor, sporting rank tags and she knew he was a staff sergeant. His expression was curious upon looking at her with moss-green eyes, his raised chin expressing judgment and conceit.

“Agent? As in Cipher Agent?”

Tayleen blinked and found that her eyelids were running dry after that long day.

“Is there a problem, Staff Sergeant?”

The man twitched his right nostril and attempted a pleasant smirk. She stood at a safe distance from him.

“What’s the story here? Your slave camp was bought by a moff, then you played covert operative or entertainer spy?”

Resisting the itch to go for her blaster, she kept her arms folded and looked away, smiling with contempt.

“Of all the people I meet, it’s always the Twi’lek who make the biggest fools out of themselves.”

The sergeant did not skip a beat and propped his fists on his hips.

“Well, educate me then.”

Her eyes almost stung with anger as she was about to send him to his bunk but she caught sight of Imperial troopers and other staff members working, listening in on the exchange. Now wasn’t the time to make a show of authority. She thought of Thexan and how her behavior would reflect on him.

“I was an orphan and lived on the streets of Nar Shaddaa. I lost everyone in my family. Imperial Intelligence happened to be my way out.”

The Twi’lek man nodded slowly, taking in a slow breath as if processing the information while mustering a response.

“Ever thought of switching sides? Better late than never.”

Don’t laugh. But she heard laughing in the distance and it came from a group of masked, helmeted troopers in gray and red armor. She looked back at the sergeant.

“That won’t be necessary, we’re all on the same side now. Besides, I’m here to build a future for my children. Old family vendettas and racial prejudice are someone else’s battle.” She paused and stepped away. “Good night, Staff Sergeant.”

He looked like he wasn’t done asking questions but she had already turned away and left the barracks sector.

The main headquarters were setup in a large tent in the middle of the camp. There was everything there except proper seats or anything cushioned for her to relax her muscles. Thexan was there with Lana and Theron Shan. Having SIS with them was important, even if Theron was more or less independent and networking under no real authority. It was only important that his mother would be favorable towards an alliance with the Empire. Her support meant a vital tip in the balance against Arcann.

She brought one of her lekku around her neck and shoulders. The only source of heat in the tent was the generator and exhausts from the computers.

“With every new pair of hands that join us we need so many supply crates,” Lana said. “That means we need a supplying chain that is skilled enough to go under Arcann’s radar. Using Republic channels won’t be easy.”

“What about smuggling leader Hylo Vizs?” Theron suggested. “I can get in touch with her, though don’t blame me if she asks for a fee.”

“We need the best,” tiredly commented Lana. “Whatever the cost.”

“Are you saying that Sith Intelligence can still count on the Empire for funding?” teasingly asked Theron. “Because in that case, I know a guy who makes comfortable planetary modules...”

“Underground is where we want be to stay covert,” told Lana.

Tayleen caught Thexan’s look from across the table. “Let me look into finances,” he told them. “I may be dead on my homeworld, but that doesn’t mean I can no longer access certain trust funds.”

“Won’t that attract attention from Zakuul?” she asked him, concerned he might be too confident.

“Not if my mother does the transfer.”

Lana’s nostrils flared slightly. She rubbed her hands on her arms, trying to warm up.

“It’s a good idea but I wouldn’t take too much advantage of it.” She eyed Tayleen. “Sith Intelligence may be virtually gone but we still have some pull with Empress Acina. She has hinted towards giving us free-reign in condition that we work towards restoring what’s left of the Empire.”

Tilting her head, Tayleen pouted humorously and tried not to be disrespectful.

“She still thinks we - the Imperials - can win this war on our own.”

“Hope is a great motivator,” said Theron. “It’s good to have it. It’s better to back it up with actual means.”

“If either factions are losing numbers, and if we siphon from their ranks, dividing their forces,” Tayleen thought aloud, “so far we can only hope our efforts will pan out... In the long run.”

“We need to stay focused on our work.” Lana leaned over the table, trying to stretch a tense back. “Theron, still no news of your mother?”

Theron scratched his scalp, brow creasing as he averted his brown eyes and looked at Thexan. Thexan looked back, interrogative but silent.

“She went off the radar. I’m guessing the losses have finally taken a toll on her. She won’t talk to me on a normal day.” The air was heavy and Tayleen counted the seconds before Theron spoke again, chuckling nervously. “Maybe you could get your mother to speak to my mother.”

“Maybe,” Thexan replied with a lifted corner of his mouth. He crossed his arms. “So then your mother can show my mother how not to interfere with her son’s private affairs.”

Tayleen did not miss his knowing look and she puffed with contempt.

“Senya’s not all that bad.”

Thexan raised an eyebrow. “She criticizes your cooking.”

“Everyone hates my cooking,” Tayleen defensively retorted. She saw Theron’s confused face and added, “I’m bad with... meat.”

Voice softening, Thexan walked around the table to explain himself, coming closer as if ready to go home.

“I don’t want her judging the way you raise your children. She barely raised me...” He looked back at Theron. “Senya is our ally on Zakuul, but the least I see her around, the better.”

“Is there a risk that she may betray us?” Lana inquired skeptically.

“No,” Thexan shook his head, pensive. Tayleen felt him getting closer and she welcomed the hand he brought up to her back to share warmth. “We’ll see you in the morning, Lana. Theron.”

Both nodded in salute as they were left in the briefing room. Thexan almost dragged Tayleen away and out in the cold night in the middle of the forest. She clung to his arm and they made their way back to the canyon.

“We’re off in a hurry.”

“Yes,” he breathed, almost trying to cover his voice. “Lana has been trying to ask me questions about my father and Vitiate for the past week. Not that I mind but...”

They had to watch their steps, having the stars for only lighting and the cover of the trees was no help. Thexan led her expertly through the narrow path so that she wouldn’t get her ankles caught in the brambles that had been growing.

“You still don’t trust her,” Tayleen observed. “I can’t blame you, she makes it hard to side with her.”

“Her presence in the Force has become more powerful ever since we settled here,” he spoke up as they reached the clearing and headed towards the bridge. “Has she asked you anything suspicious, lately?”

Tayleen bunched up her sleeves inside her palms and resisted the instinctive gesture of catching the metal railing. Crossing the canyon towards the Phantom via a simple clanking bridge several times a day always presented a danger she didn’t want to think about.

“I never really seem to be alone with her,” she replied.

She mindlessly looked down. He squeezed her hand to bring her attention back to him.

“She can’t come bother you around the children,” he said as he smiled and she felt his warmth. Their fingers tangled together. “Have I been too far, asking you to be wary of Senya?”

“A little bit,” she sincerely responded. “I appreciate you looking out for me, though it may reflect negatively on you.”

“Does that appear to phase me?” he asked, and in the darkness she wasn’t sure if he was being funny.

“You’re more worthy of attention than I am.”

The scrutiny used to be worse in the beginning, when Thexan was more of a concern than the fact that people were sharing bunks with old enemies. She was no Jedi or Sith but she noticed the looks and the comments against Thexan. The exceptions came from the handful of Zakuulans brought by Senya, they had escaped Arcann’s Eternal Empire and the Heralds of Zildrog. They had one of many valuable jobs: giving Thexan a good rap around the camp.

She unlocked the Phantom’s hatch with the biometric scan. The children were not allowed passage and they had tried several times to get it to open by themselves.

2V-R8 welcomed them with exclamated sounds.

“Oh! Masters, I was just finishing putting the little masters to bed! Such great timing!”

It was way passed their bed time. Tayleen stopped at the top of the loading ramp and pointed a finger at the droid.

“No, that’s terrible timing, 2V. Have they caused you trouble again?”

The droid brought his arms in front of its chest casing and fearfully hesitated.

“Oh... uh, no! Master! They have only been exercising and playing very creatively around the ship - of course, away from the areas which you have forbidden them. Oh please, Master! Don’t dismantle me for scraps! I was only trying not to impede on the little masters’ development!”

She watched Thexan shaking his head tiredly.

“Sleep is what’s good for their development,” he corrected 2V.

They proceeded to the crew quarters where 2V had arranged the furniture to make it baby-proof and kept it constantly clean. The old bunks had turned into playpens and shelves. Vector had gone back to Alderaan, coordinating with the collicoids to defend the planet against Zakuul. Lokin was working on his own private lab and going back and forth from Manaan to Odessen to provide medical supplies. SCORPIO, Vette and Kaliyo had gone to handle underground shady business in the Outer Rim. Raina was doing her duty for Sith Intelligence back on Dromund Kaas.

“Good thing they’re only two years old,” Tayleen complained, taking off her jacket. “Should have encouraged them to sit more, walk less.”

Ceyrin and Zherrys were fast asleep in separate cribs. They had yet to figure out how to unlock the protective bars and it had taken many trials to find the adequate equipment. Tayleen was afraid to wake them.

Thexan gave her a soft look before taking the jacket from her, rolling it around his arm. “Tea?”

“Please,” she whispered. “I need to shower off the smell of sweaty fugitives before doing anything.”

He raised a shoulder and pointed his nose towards his armpit. She puffed out laughing and he smirked at her and she palmed her mouth, pressing him out of the room.

Thexan used the shower while she waited in the lobby, having washed and clothed herself in a robe. The tea was cooling in a cup on the table and she was lying on the couch, consulting her datapad to retrieve the intel that her search bots had been collecting, roaming the holonet.

Still no sign of Jadus, anywhere.

When the Republic was waiting for Satele Shan to come out of her meditative leave, and when the Empire was counting on Essan to be rescued, Tayleen hoped to one day find the only other Sith she had known who could amass enough forces to topple another empire.

Malgus was defeated and gone.

There was only her old boss and manipulative but powerful lord of the Sith. She hoped he hadn’t switched sides on them, a possibility that would actually not surprise her.

Thexan emerged from her quarters wearing sleeping trousers and a short-sleeved gray shirt. He sat at the end of the couch, lifting her her legs and she felt tickles in the small of her feet. Yanking them away, she contained her laughter, still trying to stay quiet. The walls in the ship were not thick.

“Someone’s not very tired,” she told him, moving her legs aside so she could see him. Ever since they started living on Odessen, Thexan had trouble sleeping.

He picked up his cup and looked back at her. “What’s keeping you up?”

Working her jaws, she stared at the blue lights in the ceiling before giving her answer.

“Darth Jadus.”

The lights started to look like a star cluster above her, and her eyes watered from lack of blinking. Jadus had not killed her when he had the chance. She hadn’t chosen to work against him either.

She respected him, for lack of better word, despite everything he’d commander her to do.

“You Imperials and your Sith Lords,” she heard Thexan muttered out of view. “Of course, I was imperial too. The eternal kind. And we have lords but so far they’ve only used the Force for combat and not to surpass death.”

Tayleen brought a hand to her head, a mimicking gesture she’d caught from him every time he felt exasperated. She had no scalp to scratch.

“That’s not the funniest,” she lazily replied, staring at the vapor over her cup of tea on the table. “When I was still an Intelligence agent, I had a crush on Darth Jadus.”

“I know my jokes aren’t funny. But yours... are quite disturbing.”

She extended an arm to place her datapad upon the table, but she missed the balance point and it fell to the floor with a light plastoid click. Sitting up, she brought her feet down and enclosed the collar on her robe.

“It was a joke,” she insisted. “Let’s not worry right before bed. Are you still having nightmares?”

His blue eyes moved from the opposite wall to her and his smile was almost imperceptible.

“They’re more or less under control.”

He drank a sip of tea and she urged to feel him against her, to comfort him physically. However, more than two years of shared living taught her to sometimes let him take the first step if he required contact.

She finished her lukewarm tea in silence, picked up her datapad and cringed at the sight of her own wrist with bones visible through her orange skin. She had gone down to a meal per day to save on rations and supply runs. Most of their personal expenses went into baby-related perishables until she could work on a botanical garden near the base.

Soil, plants and seeds were not cheap. Colonization-grade goods that Lana hadn’t yet agreed to include in their budget. She kept a list of vital supplies ready for the day when she would get the green light on her garden project.

She went to bed when Thexan was settling on his side, ready to sleep, when she was still focusing her attention on her shopping list. They were going to need droids. Whenever she would get around to harvesting crops, the rest of the base would certainly demand for fresh foods and she would have to go industrial.

She felt his hand running up and down her back. Smiling, she relinquished her late night activities and agreed to lie down.

“I’m not keeping you up any longer,” she apologized, fitting her shoulder beneath his arm. “We have five hours of sleep ahead of us.”

“You need it more than I do.” His fingers trailed a line around her face. His eyelids were half closed and he breathed deep enough to almost yawn. “I sense fear in you. What is it?”

She blinked and rotated her shoulders to look away, pressing her lekku behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. She fought to find the strength to reply.

“It’s probably nothing, and I worry for the children.”

He let her think in silence but she felt his gaze on her, patiently waiting. Tayleen had felt uneasy and restless for months, it was difficult to pinpoint what exactly caused that.

Leaving Manaan. Moving to Odessen, a war camp with many strangers. The war against Zakuul that they were preparing. Saving Essan. Confronting Arcann. Keeping her family safe.

“I just feel overwhelmed at the end of the day,” she finally answered. “We all do.”

She closed her eyelids when he placed a kiss upon her temple, holding her cheek with a warm hand. Pain moved from her head to her chest, and her entire body was frozen with catatonic fear. If she moved, the moment could fade away, as if waking from a dream.

“Are you thinking about Essan?”

She nodded, but she could have asked herself the same. “Aren’t you?”

His blue eyes studied the side of her face. “I think about my brother, and my sister.”

“You miss them.” Tayleen found a sense of peace again and shifted her body upon the bed to face him. “Do you think they know you’re still alive?”

“For our sake, I hope they don’t. Although deep down, I wish they knew about us. The happiness I feel when I’m with you. They have never been at peace.”

Peace. She longed for it when the concept eluded her as well. Her memories of her family were fragmental at best. Her children were the source of constant vigilance on her part and concern for their safety. Thexan was the son of Vitiate, brother of Arcann the cruel tyrant and his sister Vaylin was a force of pure destruction. She had many reasons to feel troubled.

“I’m glad you think that way,” she softly compromised.

She’d spent too long being a puppet, having someone control her thoughts and decisions. Her thoughts were interrupted when he touched her hand over the blanket.

“You should sleep in tomorrow.”

“Why?” she studied his face. A few lines marked his forehead but he looked as calm and confident as ever. “What are you scheming behind my back?”

They had a daily routine and she didn’t like surprises. Flaring her nostrils, she tried not to sigh too angrily. Thexan did not break eye contact.

“Alright, then, promise me you won’t be up before me.”

She gnawed at her cheeks with frustration. “Just tell me what you’re going to do or I’ll never get any shut-eye.”

“I know,” he replied before fumbling with her fingers. “I will cook breakfast and feed the twins while you rest. You’ve been worried for too long.”

In other circumstances she would have pushed him off the bed. But his kind eyes and gentle caresses convinced her to trust his word. She knew the Force couldn’t influence her mind so easily, although she sometimes doubted that love and the Force were two separate things.

 

The next morning flew by as she laid in bed feeling heavy and complying to his demand not to be up too soon. After her shower she waddled towards the lounge and was surrounded by the warm smell of sweetness and something burning. Candles.

“Mama!”

Zherrys and Ceyrin wobbled towards her, running on their short legs having just been changed and they were missing their socks - which was fine, the hardwood floor in the Phantom was pleasant for barefeet. Tayleen caught the twins who crashed into her legs, giggling madly and demanding to be lifted in her arms. She crouched down to their level.

“What’s going on?” she exaggeratedly wondered, asking them with her eyes wide. “Where is Thexan?”

The both pointed towards the cargo hold yelling “Dexan!” and Tayleen caught sight of the colored napkins and a shiny wrapped package on the table. The twins hugged her and put sloppy kisses on her cheeks.

But as soon as Thexan appeared in the hallway they started screeching and running across the room. He was carrying a platter of cake with a small candle standing on it. His grin was excited and shy and she rushed to help him settle the food on the table, pushing plates and cups around.

“Cake for breakfast?” she skeptically asked.

“Just help me keep them out of the fire,” he replied, kneeling down to show the package that was sitting there. “Make a wish.”

“What, why?” she sat on the couch and the twins climbed upon it, requiring no aid. “What is this about?”

Zakuulans had strange traditions. She was discovering something new about it every now and then, but this was so out of the ordinary she was scared to hear what he was planning to tell her. Thexan was hesitant. His jaw moved around too much and his ears were going red.

“I was looking into your files to find out when exactly you were born, considering that I don’t know how old you are.”

Ceyrin reached out for the cake and poked at it. Tayleen stayed his hand and he giggled, proceeding to climb over her lap.

“Imperial Intelligence made sure my personal data was wiped,” she explained.

“In doubt, I thought I’d catch up on the first one we missed,” he sighed. “In the Old World, people would celebrate every anniversary with cake and offering gifts. So...”

He handed over the small package and she felt her face crunching up and her voice was gone.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

“It’s not-... you didn’t have to do this,” she hissed.

Her last birthday celebration had been on Nar Shaddaa, with her parents, and she was very small.

“Blow the candle,” Thexan said, wiping a tear under his own eyes.

“Do it, Mama!” Zherrys cheered on.

And then Ceyrin leaned over the edge of her lap and blew over the cake and took the extinguished candle.

They all burst out laughing and Tayleen picked up the smoking wax stick from her son’s clumsy fingers.

“Where did you get all of this?” she emotionally asked as Thexan began cutting portions of the white, brown and blue sponge dessert.

“Let’s say I used a few favors and Koth helped me with this scheme.”

“Will you save a portion for him?”

And Theron, and Lana. And Senya, too. And probably a few other hardworking people who were sweating and bleeding to build their underground base.

But they already had most of it cut out and her heart broke when he had saved barely a fraction for himself and-

“Tayleen, it’s okay... I’m sorry.”

He walked around the table, came over to her and kissed her forehead, his warm hands holding her face up.

“I thought I was doing fine,” she whispered, trying not to appear sad in front of her children who were stuffing their cute faces with chocolate, vanilla and berries.

But Thexan gave her a hug and it lasted as long as she wanted. No one had been there for her the way he had supported her for the past years. From the day she had to survive in the streets of Nar Shaddaa, through her formative years in the Empire when she could only trust herself for survival and advancement, and during her trials against vicious criminals and those who violated her mind into oblivion.

“Mama?”

It was Zherrys. Her chocolate-covered face made Tayleen crack into tears of joy and she brought her daughter in to share the hug. Ceyrin soon arrived and they cleaned their faces on her shirt and Thexan’s.

“Would you like to open your present?” he asked, rubbing her shoulder.

“Present!” cheered the twins.

“It’s for your mother,” Thexan corrected, using a napkin to wipe Ceyrin’s cheeks. “Go finish your cake.”

The wrapping was made of shiny flimsy sheet intended to be an emergency blanket. Tayleen unveiled a black box the size of her palm.

Thexan bit his lips and blushed with anticipation. She paused, took a moment to acknowledge all of his efforts and she was terrified of what would happen next.

“You’re so good to me, Thexan. I never hoped to have come this far without you.”

Visibly shaking with impatience, he flipped open the lid for her and in the box she looked at a thin golden chain with an opalescent white rock pendant.

“That’s--”

Too much. It looked like it would have cost at least a hundred thousand credits.

“I found it on Asylum,” he explained as he took the piece of jewelry and motioned for her to turn around. “Some smuggler dropped it while I was looking and gave me a discount on it.”

Tayleen let him attach the necklace on her and looked down, inspecting the gem more closely. It shimmered and sparkled under the faint lights of the lounge. It had no particular shape and felt almost rough.

“Thank you,” was all she could muster through her flustered head. “I love it.”

“I wasn’t sure you would,” he said, relieved. “I never saw any jewelry among your things...”

“That’s going to change now, is it?”

Absent-mindedly looking down, she moved her left hand to see her lack of rings or any mark of belonging or affection. Thexan’s own fingers caught hers and she held her breath, praying to the mythic gods of the galaxy that he hadn’t detected her thoughts.

His grayish-blue eyes blinked, his brow furrowing as she could almost feel him scanning her mind.

Two years was a long time to spend with somebody, to share her life and her children’s lives. If that had been anyone else, everyone else but a Prince of Zakuul...

The twins were now bored of eating and were playing with the food. The crumbs of sponge cake landed on the floor and 2V was activated from the ship’s internal sensors, scurrying after the children to pick up their mess. Tayleen welcomed the distraction and Thexan chuckled, squeezing her hands and keeping her close to him.

“Are we going to stay in today?” she quietly asked, afraid someone might hear and duty might call her back to her senses.

Thexan, carressing one of her lekku, made a regretful face before shaking his head.

“I have to supervise the construction plans today. A freighter is scheduled for this afternoon, bringing in the largest module.”

He had taken more responsabilities than she liked and that had taken a load off of her own shoulders. She knew he had his own agenda, a specific plan for himself in case all went sour. She had suspected him not to follow through with Lana’s objectives in the long run: attacking Zakuul, defeating Arcann with whatever means necessary.

“Do you need me to review recruitment files?” she suggested.

Blinking, he brought his eyes back on her and rubbed her arms. “Actually, there’s something I need to show you.”

“Another surprise?” she dramatically interjected.

“Come,” he smirked. “It’s nothing upsetting.”

He preceded her towards the cargo hold where he kept his own private space and work desk. He copied a list of files from his computer before handing her an encrypted keycard.

“This is what I’m working on. Most of it is a lot of political theorems but you can quizz me later.”

She sat down on his chair and fumbled the card between her fingers. “Is it the cause for your sleepless nights?”

He folded his arms, half-sitting against his desk before nodding to her question.

“Partly, yes. The rest is confusing.”

“I know,” she soothingly told him. “I can see you struggling with doubt, the more we advance in the alliance project. Pushing your mother away is another sign.”

Even in the dim lighting, she saw his face going hard and closed up. “She compares you to herself, when she married my father.”

Tayleen felt her mouth shut and she held her breath.

“No,” she shook her head. “We can’t get married.”

The gaze he returned to her was devastated, and yet he remained stern and calm.

“When we launch our first extraction mission on Zakuul and succeed in overcoming the Eternal Fleet,” he began to explain, “when things will look up for the galaxy, I will ask you-”

“Thexan,” she interrupted him, feeling her heart jumping in her ribcage.

He raised a palm, demanding to continue speaking.

“One day, I will ask you what life you would rather live. You know as well as I do that binding yourself to me has more ramifications and duties than you’ve ever experienced. But we don’t know what the stakes will be then.” He bit his lips, pausing. “What we’ll be able to take on, together or not.”

She found herself playing with the thin chain still cool against her skin. The prospect of ending their relationship had been in the back of her mind since the beginning of their coexistance, but this was the first time he was hinting towards it.

There were so many feelings she wanted to express, but the nagging thought of her children running around the ship tugged at her motherly senses.

She left the cargo hold, almost escaping Thexan before anything else could be said, and found her children playing in the cockpit. They were making spaceship noises and pretending to use the laser cannon. Tayleen worried that they would someday figure out how to disable the safety lock.

“Pwoof! Bam! Bam!” said Zherrys, squeezing the disabled triggers with her tiny fingers.

Ceyrin blew air and spit all over the command trying to make an exploding noise and suddenly the computer came online with a message alert. The twins squealed and stumbled off their chairs with terror.

“That’s not your doing!” Tayleen laughed, sitting at the co-pilot’s chair to respond to the call. “Good morning, Theron.”

“Morning,” replied the holographic figure of the ex-SIS agent. He scratched his head, looking nervous. “Although it’s rather late, I was hoping to contact you, Tayleen.”

She squinted her eyes. “You’re just in time, the children just vacated the premises. What’s the matter?”

“You wouldn’t guess it in a million years, I just got word from Satele Shan.” He paused, waiting for her to perhaps make a comment, but Tayleen respectfully kept silent. “She’s here.”

 

* * *

 

The stars looked different. Space had become less dark, but it was night time and it was cool. Essan smelled grass, leaves and dirt. The level of humidity was rather high and he wondered where he was now.

Where they were. Marr used his lightsaber more as a torch to see where they were going than to actually defend himself.

“Does this place feel familiar to you?” he asked the Dark Councilor.

“Not by far, and yet...” Marr turned his hooded head, his masked face inspecting the wooden environment. “I sense a presence.”

“It’s not Valkorion.”

Finally something new in this maelstrom of nonsensical dreams and lessons in futility. If Valkorion had sent them there to give them a message, Essan was open for another surprise.

“You would be mistaken,” said a female voice in the dark.

A blue lightsaber blade ignited, echoed in the void between trees and rocks and Marr charged the Jedi.

The Grand Master Jedi parried his attack and blocked. She brought her palm between them and tossed Marr away, letting him fly across the grassy clearing.

Essan faced Satele Shan with his lightsaber still hanging from his belt. He raised his hands to the level of his chest and sighed.

“Please, Grand Master, listen to me.”

She stopped her blade in a waiting stanse, one eyebrow crooked over tired blue eyes. “Wrath?”

Nodding, Essan checked for Marr, waiting for the old Sith get back to him.

“You can see us? Are you-” Marr cautiously stepped closer, limping only slightly as his hand reached out to tentatively touch the woman. She moved back.

In the daze of the illusion, Shan appeared somehow more real than the nightmare of Ziost, or the room where Essan had seen Tayleen. He sensed a genuinely benevolent intent, the shame and guilt of loss.

“I am not dead,” protested the Jedi. “But you... Why can I see you here? Are you not...”

“What are you saying?” Marr asked, modulating his voice to sound less threatening. “What happened?”

Shan blinked a few times before shaking her head and running a hand through her brown, tangled hair.

“I heard what has happened to you, on Zakuul,” her voice was bitter. “I’ve fought the Eternal Empire for so long, I had almost forgotten... We all assumed you were both dead.”

“We aren’t,” corrected Essan. “Arcann had us trapped in carbonite, and somehow we’ve managed to project our will through the Force and-”

“And now we find you here, in this strange place,” finished Marr.

Propping her hands to her hips, Satele scratched her head and looked around. Was she expecting someone else?

“I found this planet when meditating and the Force brought me here. This planet is called Odessen, not far from Zakuul.”

“We were destined to meet,” nodded Marr, “however unlikely that may be.”

She looked at her hands, closing and opening them as if doubting she was in fact real. Essan dreaded another shift of perception, to be yet again transported in a place where he would lose his bearings.

“Grand Master, could you assist us in any way? Notify the Empire that we are trapped on Zakuul, but still alive.”

She raised an apologetic expression to them and her lips parted to expell a sigh. Essan silently consulted with Marr, who in turn shook his head. He sensed the rage growing in his friend.

Shan began explaining herself. “The Empire has been rendered defenseless against Zakuul, while the Republic is in no better position. I-” she bit her lips, searching for words. “Arcann has defeated the Republic army and I just... ran away. It’s been three years.”

“Three years?” Marr exclamated.

“It only felt like a few hours to us,” said Essan, baffled. “What else do you know? Where are the coalition forces?”

Where were Tayleen and his children? By the stars, they were learning to speak by now. He was missing everything, their first steps...

“My son is working with people from all borders to build an alliance,” Shan replied. “I know they are doing everything they can to come for you.”

“Contact your son,” Marr told her, gesturing for her to pay close attention. “We may not have long before we are poisoned by carbonite freezing. Our minds may well be trapped in this plane of existence if we stay here.”

Satele Shan, mother of Theron Shan the SIS agent who worked closely with Lana Beniko, still showed hesitation and Essan felt overwhelmed with her feelings of despair.

“Please,” he added, giving Marr a quick interrogative look. “Before this... vision, we were placed in a different dimension. A timeline which advanced at a given rate. We can only assume that this place is even deeper within our consciousness, moving even faster in time. Which means the longer we stay here...”

“...The more years fly under our noses while we are articulating our minds around this metaphysical concept.”

“But I am real,” Shan argued, “I’m not a figment of your imagination... Look.”

Her hand landed and pressed upon Marr’s upper arm, to his sudden surprise as he jerked his head towards her. Essan half expected a flash of energy or a transposition of light as ethereal matter would cross and pass through each other. He let out an intrigued scoff.

“Huh.”

Shan removed her hand and cleared her voice.

“Whatever is happening, I will help you. No matter how long it takes for me.”

Thought jumbled inside his head and Essan stepped forward decisively. “Who else is here, on this planet?”

Shan shot back a suspicious look before speaking.

“The alliance is here. I haven’t met all of them but many Imperials have taken refuge at the base.”

“Any sign of a female Twi’lek among Intelligence agents?”

“Perhaps, but... I wouldn’t know exactly where. I tend to keep to myself to meditate. The Force holds a singular resonance on this world. It has helped me center my resolve and wash away my doubts.”

Essan looked away from the Grand Master Jedi, seeking a technological structure, signs of civilization - anything. He could almost sense the presence of those familiar to him.

“Ah, the pull of one’s heart strings.”

His spine shuddered at the suddenness of the chilling voice. Everything dimmed and the trees, the grass and sounds froze into place. Valkorion stepped into view, still the same ghostly vision he retained from previous appearances. Marr ignited his lightsaber. Knowing all too well how hopeless that gesture was, Essan mimicked his friend if only to show support.

“Your valiant loyalty is merely a mirage,” continued the ghost of Vitiate, “there is nothing you know that I don’t know. We share this consciousness, Wrath. Marr’s presence will not change what is to come.”

Essan kept his distances with Valkorion, who stood on the dirt path and slowly stepped towards them.

“Why are you here with us?” Essan spat. “Why won’t you haunt your son, the one who took your place on the throne?”

Valkorion’s left cheek twitched slightly before he broke into a sinister cackle. “My son... The compulsive, jealous, obnoxious child who likes to play pretend. He is no match for you, Outlander. You are far more worthy of the gift I am saving.”

“I want nothing from the creature who devours worlds, destroys lives at every whim.”

“Such petty display of morality. Need I remind you of your past again? What won’t you do for those you cherish the most? Would you not sacrifice a principle for the sake of the few?”

“Beware...” warned Marr. “This is what you’ve trained for, Wrath.”

“I’ve already paid the price for their safety, and if I must remain in this carbonite prison for eternity so that you won’t reach them, so be it.”

Essan deactivated his lightsaber, clipped it back to his belt and began walking away from the apparition, but the world around him was still blurred and stuck in time.

Time, the one he perceived but not the one that passed for Tayleen and the twins. He clutched his hands into fists and swallowed hard, keeping his sorrow buried deep.

“That is not a luxury either of us can afford, I’m afraid,” Valkorion commented, to Essan’s surprise with a genuinely apologetic tone. “At this hour, my children have drawn the galaxy to its knees. Soon, your people will take their turn. None will be spared unless we act.”

“You lie to us,” Marr hissed. “You manipulate and use others to serve your interests.”

“Why wouldn’t that be a common goal?” Valkorion asked, theatrically raising his hands. “I have allowed you to catch glimpses of the galaxy when I could have let you wander the void of the coma. That is only a fraction of my power. All the rest is yours, should you accept it.”

Essan looked up, hoping to find the stars he was used to seeing, but now they were back on the desolate rock of Ziost. He could no longer smell the trees and the humid soil of Odessen. The dust under his feet seemed to cover everything. Why was he having trouble breathing?

“Marr,” he looked over his shoulder to find the Sith Lord lightly punching his chest. “Do you sense him?”

“He has disappeared,” answered Marr with a grating voice. He took a deep, aching breath. “We’re left in no position to refuse his offer... I know you would take the chance of helping your family, and the galaxy, although it is unknown what Vitiate intends to do with us once he is enabled.”

“He needs us,” Essan said with disgust twisting his stomach. “Whatever the reason for it, he wants his son dead.”

“He intends to kill all of his children, they are his biggest threats. Be cautious, Essan.”

He turned around, seeing nothing but stone and rock and dust in the darkness, except for Marr there was no one and nothing with them in the dream vision. Essan reached for his belt, looking for the compact datapad he usually carried.

“Should we not proceed to face whatever Valkorion throws at us to test our resolve?” Marr impatiently asked.

His heart almost jumped in his chest when Essan found his datapad, clipped in the inside of his belt. He switched it on and the small holo screen projected its normal interface. He was beaming, joy filled him and he quickly navigated his files.

“It seems I’m able to use any object I’m familiar with,” he thoughtfully commented, opening a subfolder that was hidden behind encryption.

“Pictures,” Marr observed, arms crossed as he moved in to look closer. “Are you not suspicious of Valkorion’s vile intent towards your family?”

He found the file he was looking for. Taking a deep breath, Essan opened it and the holo replayed in front of the two Sith.

Zherrys and Ceyrin were both in the smallest medical bed available on the Imperial Terminus flagship. Their bald heads were covered under soft hats and they were awake, awkwardly trying to grasp at his gloved hand. Zherrys smiled and squinted her purple eyes when her stubby fingers caught his pinkie. Ceyrin had brought his thumb over to his mouth, trying to suckle at it.

He let out the feeling of air from his lungs.

“Valkorion never cared for his family.” He paused to listen to the sounds produced by the babies in the holo recording. “I wish I could have talked to them. Made them understand that I would never give up on them.”

The picture paned towards another area of the medical room and he heard Tayleen’s voice again. His chest ached as he felt the memory while watching it unfold.

“Your armor is going to smell of milk and diapers.”

His own voice spoke through the datapad. “None would get close enough to notice.”

The holo moved towards the Twi’lek sitting in her bed, dressed in a medical gown and her normally orange face looked pale. Only her tired smile was a glimmer of hope, a sign for him that she still trusted him and held him somewhere close to her heart. Before the image changed again, he switched off the device.

“Their lives are no longer tied to yours,” Marr spoke beside him. “Remember, once you’ve chosen the path of the dark side, sacrifices must be made. Letting go of these attachments only serve the greater purpose.”

“Careful now, Marr. You’re beginning to sound like the Jedi.”

The red-clad Sith waved his hand at the remark.

“Perhaps Grand Master Shan followed a similar reasoning, which led her to the Odessen planet. Now, we are no longer plagued by doubt. She and her alliance will come to us in due time. I feel it.”

Essan felt envy at the Sith Lord’s display of confidence. There was nothing he wanted more but to trust the visions and follow the Force with whatever may come. Valkorion’s tests and mind games appeared to come to an end but he still prepared himself for yet another trial.

It had only been a day at most since he had heard Tayleen’s voice aboard the Terminus, hours that stretched into years as his mind wrapped around the idea that nothing was ever going to be the same. She would have moved on and his children grew up and - would they recognize him at all? Did they even know who he was?

None of it mattered now so long as Valkorion still held him prisoner - that Arcann kept him in carbonite sleep. Arcann, he had seen the anger with which the renegade son turned against his father. He hadn’t hesitated to foolishly risk his life to destroy Valkorion once again. But Marr and Essan were motivated by justice. Arcann’s was a family matter when not so long ago, as he’d first attempted to kill Valkorion, his brother died by his hand.

“I have trouble imagining Arcann thawing us out,” he confessed. “Not unless he somehow needed our help in any way.”

“There is a reason why we were not killed,” Marr reflected calmly. “I fear we represent nothing but the spoils of war for Zakuul.”

More Jedi Master and Sith Lords were trapped as they were, none of which he had met in the dream state excep for Darth Marr. Essan looked up to the stars.

“We were able to speak to Satele Shan, another Force user, even in this passive state. Which makes us not so passive after all, as far as trophies go.”

“Are you suggesting we attempt to contact Arcann?”

“That’s exactly right.”

Shaking his hooded mask, Marr folded his arms. His shoulders braced as if he tried to stretch his back. They were both growing tired.

“Valkorion would not allow it.”

“Ah,” Essan chuckled. “I don’t answer to him, and neither should you, My Lord.”

 

* * *

 

He had always loved the stars, his father. Neither knowing nor wondering why that statement hung in his mind every time he looked up at the sky, his own appreciation of the cosmos was tainted with the bitter resentment he felt towards his dead father. Oh, how he would have relished watching him die by his hand.

The stars hung in the black canopy of space all around him and he felt weightless for a while. Such was the hint to him that he was dreaming yet about to wake up. He never dreamed for very long.

Sometimes, Arcann never slept at all. He watched the blackness of space settle around his being, expecting to wake in his royal chambers in the Spire. But the stars remained, and soon he recovered the sense of gravity and imagined he was langing upon a hard surface.

He was wearing his mask and armor, when he clearly remembered shedding them before going to bed. This was not real. It felt cold and the cold never bothered him before. Not even in the presence of Valkorion, whose distance and power made all around him tremble.

Valkorion could suck the life out of everything around. He knew that much. He had felt it first hand and that kind of weight in the universe had a unique signature. He could almost taste it now. He called out with his mask-altered voice.

“Father.”

It was just a dream, he thought. His father was dead. He heard someone call back and he turned around so abruptly he felt pain in his neck.

“Arcann.”

They were two and they wore the same armor he’d last seen them wearing. Darth Marr and the Outlander. They were coming out from behind a rocky hill. Arcann reached for his lightsaber.

The Sith who dared defy his father raised a gloved hand but too slowly. Was he not going to attack? Arcann wouldn’t give him the advantage of striking first. His golden blazing weapon was ready to strike.

How were they outside of their carbonite tombs if this was no dream? He rushed forward, weapon raised over his head to strike down the Outlander. They had finally readied their lightsabers

“Arcann, stop.”

The red opposing blade parried at the last second and he stared into the silver mask, his muscles tense with everything he had. Darth Skordus barely seemed to spend an effort to support his assault.

The Force seemed to abandon him for a fraction of a second, just before he was pushed away and he tumbled down on the dirt ground.

Cursing, Arcann pulled himself up, feeling heavy and drained of his energy.

Father, he was here. He was doing this to him. Even in his sleep he would not enjoy the peace of solitude. Even in death, ghosts never truly seemed to leave him alone.

“Listen to us,” spoke the Dark Councilor Darth Marr. “This is not a dream.”

“We’re here to talk,” told Skordus, lowering his blade. “We’re still held in your custody but the carbonite sleep is killing us.”

“Why would I listen to you?” spat Arcann, mentally searching for Valkorion. “Where are we?”

“One of Valkorion’s illusions, he is trapped here with us.”

“He still exists,” Arcann observed, concerned that he would have to confront his father again. He eyed Skordus “If you remain in carbonite, Valkorion won’t escape either.”

“For as long as our bodies live,” Marr said, stepping closer, even coming between him and Skordus. “We were made aware of time passing while we are in this state. Carbonite sickness could get worse after two years.”

Smiling sardonically behind his mask, Arcann slowly shook his head.

“It has almost been five years, Sith. And should your bodies degrade to an unsustainable degree, my engineers would see that the stasis be adjusted.”

Their shoulders dropped and they silently consulted each other upon hearing his correction. Arcann couldn’t read masks, but he sensed their frustration and overall grimness. This was somewhat interesting. He had never imagined being able to interact with his carbonite trophies before.

“There’s no chance for you to simply thaw us out?” asked Skordus, wrapping his arms against his chest.

“I expected much from you, Wrath,” Arcann, amused, commented as he chuckled. “But not that you would think me so naive.”

Shrugging, Skordus retorted simply. “You helped me once. I was assuming that you might be as reasonable as...” The Wrath let his words trail off, then took a deep breath. “Tayleen told me about you and your brother.”

“Ah, there it is.” Arcann straightened his back, walking towards the Sith to better assert his confidence. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“Perhaps, are you planning to be honest?”

“I have no interest in your marital disputes,” he answered impatiently. “Perhaps, if he was still alive, you could have asked Thexan about that. Unlike him, I barely spoke to your wife.”

There was a moment of doubt mixed with curiosity when both Sith consulted each other in silence. Arcann pressed his teeth together. He was not going to tell them how his brother died. Skordus eventually presented an open hand as a sign of peace.

“It’s all in the past, and I’ve only lived here for a day. So whatever happened in the five years I’m missing, no one can change it. Not even your dead father.”

He felt himself breathing heavily by the end of his sentence. Arcann holstered his lightsaber almost against his better judgment. Now was not the time for anger, he had to be smart.

“My father,” he began, “I can sense him. Where is he?”

“One thing I learned from this place,” answered Skordus, “is that Valkorion, or Vitiate, is never present when needed.”

Arcann narrowed his eyes, feeling a twinge of pain from the old burns on his masked face. Why would a Sith say such a thing to him?

“You want out of your carbonite sleep,” Arcann pensively spoke. “But with your revival, Valkorion will be free. He always gets what he wants.”

“His death is what will free Valkorion!” protested Marr, accusingly pointing an index finger at Arcann. “When he killed him, Valkorion’s spirit inhabited the next available body, which you immediately trapped... but for how long?”

His words barely left his modulator that Skordus started to twitch and bend over with pain, clutching at his midsection. Marr placed a hand on the other Sith’s back and Arcann watched with skepticism.

“We don’t have much time!” growled Marr.

“My apologies.” He smirked behind his mask. “I will not risk liberating my father. There is too much at stake.”

They looked at him and Arcann turned away, calling upon the Force to transport him back to reality.

 

Weightlessness was replaced by the familiar gravity of Zakuul and he woke in his bed, inside the royal penthouse. No one was there, spying on him. Asking things of him. Sleep was the only moment when he could pretend to escape his reponsibilities and not be reminded of his dead father’s example in leadership.

The Sith were manipulative and he let himself stay awake as rage filled him. They knew too much, and they were dangerous. Skordus and his wife were alive, which was his first mistake. It was originally Thexan’s doing, to allow for an Imperial spy to get so close to Zakuul, to know so much about their family and to escape when Thexan died. Vaylin had executed so many Knights that day.

He sometimes thought of Thexan when he was alone, unable to erase the memory of his face - his brother’s shocked and sad expression - as life slipped away from his eyes. Nails dug in the edge of his mattress as he sat in the dark silence. He still resented the Knights who reported immediately disposing of Thexan’s body right after his death. He had believed the doctored autopsy report without even reading it. He had only imagined looking upon his brother’s corpse before the lid of his coffin was closed.

Sometimes, when reason escaped him, Arcann believed his brother wasn’t dead. His name would come into his conversations with counselors until they would awkwardly hint at Thexan’s absence. The pain was still fresh, five years after that day. What kept him from sleep also fueled his motive to make Zakuul even greater under his reign. Thexan had started the galactic conquest. He would have wanted him to continue his work.

He was the Eternal Emperor but Arcann would eternally regret not sharing the title with his brother. He bitterly accepted taking on the tasks by himself in memory of Thexan.

The morning was still hours ahead but he wouldn’t go back to sleep. His face itched. While the pain was dull he still ached to scratch his cheek or even open his left eye wide. He quickly put his mask back on, sealing the brace around his head. His communicator activated as he pressed a key on his bedstand.

“Vaylin, we have a problem.”

His younger sister’s voice mumbled something foul, being woken in the middle of the night.

“You had better have a good excuse.”

The Spire was bright and beautiful outside his window and he watched the tower where he kept his trophies.

“It’s not good,” he corrected, speaking angrily. “Father might break out of his trap if we don’t act soon.”

“You’re thinking about the Sith, aren’t you?” Vaylin sighed irritably.

“I will do more than think. It’s come to my attention that five years in unstable carbonite freezing will kill our host.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to do something stupid, brother...”

Oh, how perfect it would be, to actively subdue the entity that had dominated his whole life, drove his sister to insanity and Thexan... Arcann felt his whole body tremble with sinister excitement. His Father, caged in the body of another man, would soon become his servant.

The smile he made almost tore at his tender, burned lips.

“Would you like to speak to Father again?”

 


	16. Home

Chapter 16

 

It was finally done, assuming the grandeur and boldness of a galactic command center, yet harboring an organization so secret it had no name. They had use the name of Alliance without second thought, and he had grown accustomed to being consulted in matters of guerrilla strategies and combat efficiency against his own Eternal Empire.

Thexan shook hands with the construction foreman from Ord Mantell, formerly a Republic contractor, and his team rejoiced as they all watched the newly finished dome shining against the morning sky. It had been protested among the crew, mainly Lana Beniko, for its size and the fact that it wasn’t underground. Had it not been with the support of Republic personnel, Thexan would not have approved the project and now he felt a sense of satisfied pride. He’d never been given the opportunity to build anything, to achieve anything lasting, in his life.

Everyone looked up from the docks to admire their gigantic base of operation. There was room now to house every crew member, their families, and so many more. The anti-air security systems were in place and functioning. New recruits were coming in a little at a time, and each week that passed added more strength and hope to morale.

“Thank you,” Tayleen murmured next to him. She was barely audible above the chatter from the crowd outside. “You gave up on the pointy tower concept.”

“You mentioned how you missed Manaan,” he stated, “so I had Grir’lata send over a few holos from Ahto City. She misses us, too. I sent pictures of the children.”

He sensed peace in her as he watched her smile discretely. It was warm in the sunlight, yet he felt his short hair stand on the back of his neck with a mix of excitement and anxiety over the on-going mission. Koth and Lana had left for Zakuul a week ago. There was still a delay to wait before the first sitrep from the Spire.

“Are you looking forward to having neighbors?” she queried as the crowd dissipated. There was work to be done, including moving furniture around and setting up appliances. Her voice tightened. “I can submit you a black list.”

He peered at her squinting blue eyes, staring at the top floor of the dome. Five years had gone by and lines were appearing on her brow. She still looked as beautiful as the first day he saw her, although he failed to fathom the shift in perception when feelings were involved. Thexan, having let go of the idea of actually becoming her husband, retained very much of his initial feelings for Tayleen. She, on the other hand, had stopped externalizing her opinion on the matter.

The apartment layout had already been agreed upon and the tenants knew well who they were going to share a floor with. Private luxury suites were for another world, another life for Thexan. It came as obvious and natural now that safety and comfort were prioritized around the children.

With the inauguration of the dome, the Alliance’s first school for children opened - a good opportunity to keep the young ones out of their parents’ hair while they moved into their new apartments.

The furniture was already provided: spartan and functional tables and seats, but the special orders of comfortable beds would come in later that day.

Ceyrin idly picked at his breakfast porridge sitting opposite of Thexan. He set down his cup of caf and raised his eyes from the datapad to give the young boy attention.

“It’s going to be a long day, don’t spare those calories.”

The boy’s blue eyes - those of Tayleen - darted from the window towards the bedroom where his sister was preparing her things for school.

“I don’t like the other children,” he mumbled.

Guilt ate at him. His fencing class had taking much of his time that current year and time went by so fast, he barely knew how the children spent their days and how they were faring in the community.

“Ignore them,” Thexan reluctantly advised. “Your mother and I will have a word with their parents.”

“It’s okay,” sighed Ceyrin. “They’re not hurting me anyway.”

Thexan pressed a hand upon Ceyrin’s arm and tried to smile compassionately. No other child looked like him. No other Rattataki had blue eyes.

No one knew who his father was and yet he appeared to show more and more of Essan’s wisdom for his very young age.

“You’ll be alright,” he told the boy.

He had to be, they had no other choice. Sheltering the twins was out of the question. They needed balance, and to be a part of the alliance even in the smallest way. Tayleen needed it, too. Her days had grown short even while taking care of her children in full and almost never speaking to another adult for weeks at a time.

Thexan felt his part of responsibility as a foster father, to provide the children with more than just Force lessons and practicing concealment. There was more to life than hiding.

Ceyrin eventually finished the meal while Thexan shared his datapad to play a game. He wasn’t proficient in Kadugon - virtual entertainment was the children’s thing - but he enjoyed spending his evenings learning with them. Tayleen was herself a level twenty-six Kadugon master and she knew which other children could play together with the twins without encountering trouble.

The children’s sector had all amenities from nursery, mess hall, rec rooms, and a handful of classes where either droids or biological teachers could round up the young students and sit them down to do mental exercises for several hours a day.

The twins held his hands and they clung tightly as they walked towards the Mirialan woman waiting for the last pupils to pass the entrance. Upon talking with her the previous day he’d learned that she was a Coruscant university graduate but spent most of her adult life smuggling spice. Thexan hoped she would teach the kids some useful calculus.

They stalled and he took a knee, looking at the Twi’lek and Rattataki siblings carrying small packs with their tablets and snacks, squeezing their small hands to grab their attention.

“Be good to Miss Unura, you will have a lot to learn from her.”

Zherrys directed her purple eyes towards the Mirialan, then towards her mother.

“Will you stay and learn with us, mama?” she implored, before adding a prolonged pleases.

“I just might,” assured Tayleen, so close to losing her composure. She knelt to their level and hugged her children tightly. “I’m going to miss you both.”

Thexan stood, tried not to frown and hid the creeping heartbreak with a kind smirk. Five years was a long time without leaving the twins from Tayleen’s sight. Even for just one day. Seeing them wave cheerfully as they entered the school pinched at his heartstrings. Tayleen waved back, almost reluctantly before they eventually walked the pristine silver hallways towards the underground base.

The twins were not far. This was nothing like the disaster that was his own family, torn apart by his father, banishing his little sister for years. What Zherrys and Ceyrin were learning for their development was eons away from the cruel treatment in some lab... Nathema was from another life now, he swore he could believe it. Gnawing at his molars, Thexan mentally brushed away the painful memories.

“Think of all the idle hours spent watching quantum physics tales,” he softly reminded her. “And the countless wilderness outings to learn everything their eyes can see. It’s time to let them show off what you taught them.”

She rubbed at her teary eyes while nodding. “Has Ceyrin talked to you about his troubles?”

“He did.” Thexan met her gaze. “I’ve worried about this day but I didn’t know...” His voice trailed off, unsure of his own feelings on the matter. “I grew up among adults, Arcann and Vaylin were the only other children.”

They walked towards the elevator and met with people from the alien research team and everyone pretended to be busy with their electronic schedules. Thexan caught sight of Tayleen adjusting her collar; she still wore her necklace. Their relationship was no hidden secret to all of the Alliance personnel, although he liked to see reminders acknowledging it from time to time.

The command quarters were scattered across the base, following specific instructions for those who preferred not to live in the dome, but underground and next to the war room.

“I hope they make friends,” Tayleen sighed, entering the cargo lift. “Isolation isn’t good for them in the long run. They’ll need to work with people they don’t know.”

They would have the whole day without the children for the first time in years. He couldn’t shake the thought from his mind.

“They’ll know they can turn to you when in trouble.”

In response, she raised her chin and they arrived at the war room. Theron was there with General Aygo, reviewing the Zakuul system map and they interrupted their conversation. Thexan gave a polite nod to the Bothan and the son of Satele Shan. The Grandmaster bowed her head and Theron went straight to the morning’s debriefing.

“Thank you for joining us, we were discussing the advancement of the Eternal Fleet throughout the Inner Rim.”

Aygo pressed a key that brought up a holo image of a Star Fortress. His low-pitched voice contrasted with his short height but Thexan knew better than to underestimate the Republic army general.

“Now, even the neutral systems are under regular assault. This is footage from Nar Shaddaa.”

“At least, the Hutt cartel is shaking in its boots,” commented Tayleen. “Do we have any assets there?”

Satele straightened her back and appeared to stretch her muscles. She was wearing her battle robes and her hair had gone a shade more pale while it was trimmed short and neat. “Our numbers on the ground are limited and our special ops squads are dealing with the Black Sun. Our hands are tied, we can’t spare anyone to handle a Star Fortress.”

“What about Lana and Koth?” Thexan inquired. “Any news?”

Theron parted his hands with a disappointed pout of his mouth. “Still no update from them, and Senya is still off the radar.”

Tayleen crossed her arms before lightly scratching her neck with worry. “I was hoping to have contacted my crew by now,” she told helplessly. “None of them called back.”

“We’ll have to be patient,” Satele advised, taking a slow step away from the briefing table. “My latest meditative visions have comforted our hopes and we will soon hear from our operatives.”

“Yes,” shrugged Theron, “it’d be nice to have some form of detailed sitrep from the Force. This morning I woke up with rusty joints with all of this sitting around. When Lana comes back I’ll be sure to complain about my new bunk.”

“I’m sorry your furniture is not to your specific liking,” Satele flatly commented. “Would you like me to add a fresh layer of cushioning on your cot? Or should I come over with tea before you fall asleep?”

Theron could not have rolled his eyes any harder. He then appeared to mull over his thoughts before giving his reply.

“That would be nice.”

“Why haven’t you applied for an apartment?” asked Tayleen.

“Do I look like a household of three or more?”

Satele folded her arms and made a waving gesture at her son before speaking.

“Thexan, how are we doing with Force users? Found any potential candidates among your students?”

He’d never entirely grown used to having students yet.

“There are quite a few melee fighters from the military ranks who’ve shown promising skill,” he told not without a hint of pride. “I began drilling our Knights and Sith Lords to Zakuul type of fencing.”

“But what about Force sensitivity?”

Mulling over the question, Thexan let his eyes wander over the holo images of the Star Fortress. Not a single contestant had shown significant proficiency with the Force. Compared to the Knights he trained with all of his life on Zakuul, he felt hopeless to find at least one fighter who had even half of his own strength in the Force.

Perhaps he should have lowered his criteria. Perhaps it was all for nothing. None could get remotely strong enough to stand against Arcann and Vaylin. He felt the weight press upon his back even harder as the room oppressed him with its silence.

“Many Jedi and Sith alike have enough to show for,” he decided to go the diplomatic route. “But the more ambitious elements need to be taught new ways to channel their strength. Conventional doctrines won’t be enough.”

Satele Shan stared him down with narrowed eyes. “I believe we will prevail with the Jedi training alone and, regretfully, with the power of Sith lords at our side.”

Thexan repressed a scoff of despise. His avoiding eyes fell upon Tayleen who wordlessly told him to keep his cool. Returning to face the Grand Master Jedi, Thexan lightly cleared his throat.

“Would you like me to begin sparring with live weapons?”

He could see her nervously swallowing while she processed his suggestion. He could sense her hesitation and guilt as if they were his own. Grand Master Shan had sent out thousands of men and women to their death in hopeless battle, to meet their fate and to assert their position as defenders of peace. She had believed herself to be right even though she had failed everyone.

“Do what you must,” she conceded. “But please, be careful. We can only afford so many losses on the front.”

He hadn’t kept count of the lives he’d taken, either from the Jedi, Republic or Sith faction. It wasn’t clear how much she knew of his ability to kill any opponent, but having attended the sparring sessions she surely had a good inkling.

“Fear is an efficient catalyst to reveal one’s hidden potential,” he reflected aloud.

“I will not condone such rash methods, especially not while we’re trying to smooth things out with the Sith.”

“You’re welcome to watch over today’s class if that would reassure you, Grand Master.”

“I know what effect my presence has upon your students, or yourself,” she calmly retorted. “Still, I appreciate the consideration. I will be in the Force enclave should anyone look for me.”

But she hadn’t said no and Thexan took mental note of it while Theron scratched an itch in the back of his neck.

“Well, that wasn’t weird at all.”

“Your mother was able to speak to Essan,” Tayleen softly reminded them. “And Darth Marr. I’ll take the weird if she can provide more vital information.”

“If everything goes as planned, Lana and Koth should be in the Spire as we speak. It’s only a matter of hours until the Grand Master’s prophecies are confirmed or not.”

Thexan held his arms tightly against his chest and tried to steadily breathe despite his growing anticipation.

“We rehearsed the infiltration tactics for months. Lana’s resilient. She won’t let us down.”

“I know that much,” Theron nodded, but his head jerked to the side with doubt. “But extracting two carbonite-sick prisoners from the heart of the Eternal Empire still sounds like a nightmare to me, no matter what color you paint it.”

“They won’t be sick,” Thexan assured the former SIS spy. “The cure I gave her has been field-tested.”

He had done the trip back to Manaan specifically to purchase medicine to quickly get rid of carbonite sickness. Essan and Marr would have full physical and sensory recovery in order to escape and fight their way out. It would be the quickest way to the top of the building. With good timing and a bit of luck they would be out of harm’s way in mere hours.

If only time did not appear to slow down by the minute.

“You seem anxious,” Tayleen said, propping a knee upon the window sill as she sat down to face him. The sun was starting to dim over the skies of Odessen and the wind whistled as it blew stronger.

Thexan mulled over his idle thoughts of Zakuul, failing at relaxation as he looked out of their bay view from their apartment. The forest, the mountain and the river deep into the canyons were foreign to his memories of home. He missed seeing the tall triangular shapes of the Spire. The golden lights.

“I regret not being there,” he responded softly. “With Koth and Lana, to protect them from my siblings. I feel like we sent them to their deaths.”

She frowned and he met her wide eyes. “They know what they’re doing. You have your own duties here. Keeping us safe.”

Dark gray clouds waved passed and sun rays blinded him momentarily. Squinting, he felt the warmth upon his skin but he almost shivered, restless.

“When I was younger, I had found myself in a similar position,” he began telling. “Vaylin was to be retrieved from banishment, I had been waiting years for that day to come. But Arcann was sent in my place even while he hated visiting her.”

He paused. Tayleen lowered her brow. “You mentioned Nathema had a negative effect on your connection to the Force.”

“Arcann couldn’t tolerate it,” he explained. “I had built up a tolerance for the void and grew stronger despite its effect over the years. So did Vaylin, obviously.”

“Why send Arcann in your place?”

More darker clouds shaded the sky and he closed his left hand into a fist, deciding to sit cross-legged upon the ledge in order to contain the agitation he felt in him.

“One of my father’s cruel challenges. Nothing that compared to the atrocities inflicted upon our sister, as per his instructions.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned her head against the thick transparent glass. Thexan took in a slow breath to regain calm.

“When Vaylin returned she was almost a stranger to us. I feel like... had it been me who’d gone to bring her home, she would have remained my little sister.”

He felt like he’d shared too much. Judging by her arched brow and puzzled expression, Thexan ended his recount of the past feeling spent and mournful. Having lost his sister and brother to the abuse of their father left him in endless state of emotional solitude. He had succeeded in dividing his children. Thexan felt forever lacking in his duty as a brother, having failed to protect his family against the tyrant that spawned them.

Maybe it was a change on his face, or the way he breathed that got her to come to him. Her hand was much warmer than his and he opened himself to embrace her while they sat in silence. She fit her head beneath his chin while he wrapped his arms around her soft shoulders. Where he once felt her bones there was now more flesh and warmth against his body. It was strange and eerily dissonant, that someone cared enough about him to alleviate his pain with her presence.

“You miss your family,” she murmured and she played with his hand, eventually tangling their fingers. “Maybe one day you’ll have a chance to be with them.”

“Not before long,” he replied, jaw tightened. He took in a ragged breath and adjusted his position under her.

Tayleen turned and brought her lekku in her back as she faced him. She was close enough that he could smell her slight perspiration, and the caf she drank earlier that morning. Her lids lowered on her ocean eyes as he ran his fingers along her cheek.

It ached to speak. It was better not to. He couldn’t express how he missed feeling her lips against his, to touch her body in ways only he could and to hear her heartbeat before sleep. They had been apart for a total of two years. The loneliness was easier. Fear had gotten the best of their relationship, and the tears and the anger ate away at their affection for one another. Solitary nights were easier.

A rift had opened but they stayed together for the children. He kept the day time schedule in the back of his mind and knew they had only a few hours left before they were out of class. Taking a deep breath, he gently removed himself from their mother and she remained sitting where he used to be. She was trembling and trying to hide it with her arms crossed. He regretted not having a blanket to wrap around her and he brushed the thoughts away.

He’d learned his lesson. Tending to someone as they would a child was not love. Taking pity in someone was not love.

They had been enemies in the past. Maybe one day they would find each other again.

 

* * *

 

He felt heavy and dizzy as he fell to his knees and elbows, meeting the ground with such violence that he didn’t register not seeing anything. He heard a voice that he recognized but didn’t identify. He complied to a solemn command not to move too fast. Essan coughed and pulled himself up. His bones ached, as if a blast of conflagration had shattered his body prior to the cryogenic sleep. Yet he stood, feeling weak but willing to fight.

“Arcann.”

“You’re doing much better than I expected,” spoke the cavernous voice of the son of Valkorion. “Outlander.”

“Wh-... What did you call me?”

Another fit of cough interrupted his mockery and he bent forward, unable to ease the pain in his chest. The soreness was replaced with a sharp pinch in his left arm. His vision returned almost spontaneously.

“Let’s not waste any more time. I have waited five years to find answers. Keeping you in stasis has achieved nothing.”

Ah, yes. Those five years hadn’t grown to a longer period of time. At least that was a comfort he could rely on.

Arcann’s half masked face turned away as he walked down the dark corridor. Essan looked around, saw many other carbonite prisoners hanging from the walls.

“What? No guards?” he staggered behind the man in white. He coughed again. “Where are you going?... Wait.”

He swore he could hear Arcann chuckling behind his mask. Essan brought up his gloved hands and was grateful that he still wore his own armor and his face was also hidden. His lightsaber, however, was not on his belt. What good would a weapon be if he didn’t have full control of his limbs? He stumbled and almost fell trying to catch up with the new Emperor of Zakuul. He had to get used to the idea. Still, it appeared suspicious that there were no Knights around. It appeared like another vision.

When Arcann stopped walking they were on a different floor, in some kind of office, empty again, no other guards or personnel as if they had all taken their break at the same time. Arcann motioned his human hand towards a seat at the wide oval table. Had the circumstances been different, Essan would prefer standing but he welcomed the offer and nearly crashed into the chair, leaning heavily on the table top while Arcann took a seat at a respectable distance. He was armed, Essan not. He was in possession of all of his abilities. Essan still felt like his stomach was going to move out of his gut. Not to mention the blasting headache and light flashes in his eyes.

“This is quaint,” he dryly started trying to repress the coughing. “I expected worse for my rebirth.”

“Valkorion,” Arcann commanded. “Let me speak to him.”

Searching his thoughts, Essan couldn’t feel a sign of his host entity. He didn’t feel any different from himself.

“I don’t know where he is.”

Arcann’s cybernetic hand formed a fist on the table and his single visible eye turned bright yellow. “Do not play with me, Outlander. I can sense my father’s presence. It is unmistakable. If you won’t help me to get rid of him, it’s back to the carbonite prison with you.”

“I want him out of my life as much as you, Arcann.”

He didn’t know how much of a negotiator was the brother of Thexan. While one twin was reasonable, calm and benevolent, the other was quite unpredictable.

“We already know that if you die, he will be free to roam and find a new host,” Arcann established methodically. “I will not permit that.”

Essan let out a soft laugh, as much as his body would allow. “I’m grateful. Perhaps we could even become friends.”

His eyebrow first arched with restrained rage before softening his look progressively as he took a breath and leaned against the back of his chair.

“You are the Outlander. The one who assassinated the Emperor of Zakuul. You have one place here and it’s in my custody. We are not friends, no matter what this... agreement might entail.”

“So...” Essan gave a deliberate look around them, “no guards, no shackles? Looks like you want to break a secret deal.”

“You were the Emperor’s Wrath, and while we haven’t crossed paths before I know what you are capable of. My father values you enough to use you as his new vessel.” Arcann slowly nodded. “I want you under my authority. Indefinitely.”

Of course. What better way for the Emperor’s son to use his father’s favorite toy as his own, thus reversing the situation and having his father almost literally obey his commands. Essan, while he disliked being used again as an executioner, saw the opportunity behind the abuse.

“And what’s in it for me?”

“Your life is your own. You will get to see your children at your request. You may even reunite with your wife.”

“Ah,” he let out an involuntary sigh. “Using a man’s family to gain advantage over him. Sounds like a personal vendetta.”

Arcann interrogatively raised his brow. “What would I have to fear from you?”

Smiling to himself, Essan enjoyed the privacy of his own mask even though he knew Arcann could sense his confidence. No, he would not show all of his cards just yet.

“My ultimate and inevitable betrayal?”

He now sensed the mirrored emotion of vicious pride coming from Arcann. The man was smiling coyly as well behind his mask.

He stood up and Essan made a conscious effort to get to his feet fast enough not to appear weak. His head was spinning a lot less than minutes earlier.

“I have a feeling this arrangement will be mutually beneficial,” commented Arcann.

Sizing up the human, he looked in vain for a resemblance with his twin. He almost missed Thexan’s agreeable demeanor, his polite yet arrogant smirk whenever Essan would challenge his values. Arcann’s mask made him more robotic in comparison to his live, more human brother.

“I’m keeping my eyes peeled,” Essan spoke out in warning. “Not suggesting you might be lacking in that area.”

He liked to spike and taunt his opponents, to find their edge and safety distance. Arcann lowered his arched eyebrow. There was no anger or hatred coming from him, surprisingly. Essan sensed puzzlement, curiosity even.

“Should you come in contact with Valkorion, I would prefer you remain under my close watch. We have... unfinished business.”

Like killing his father, once and for all. Valkorion had accused him of attempting on his brother’s life before going for his father, that day five years before. Arcann had delivered the blow that lead everyone to believe Thexan was dead. Evidently, it had remained the widely accepted truth - or something so upsetting that none would dare question it.

From his carbonite prison Essan was moved to an actual material incarceration under maximum security. A far cry from whatever cooperation arrangement he had in mind. Now, no lightsaber had any effect on the energy barrier that detained him in a luxury-type suite, deep in the center of the Spire. This was certainly how Tayleen was detained in her month-long abduction following the Eternal Fleet. She had come back with Thexan, who had turned out to be a changed man.

Essan resisted the urge to fall asleep just yet on the more than welcoming bed and pillows. Time ran at normal speed now, that was his only comfort, so he had to start planning.

“You should not underestimate my son.”

“Oh, the quiet, sweet voice of slumber,” Essan grumbled and refused to sit up. He caught a glimpse of a faint blue glow at the foot of his bed. “Now you find your voice?”

Valkorion crunched up his face with irritation. “I won’t play into your games with Arcann. You are wasting time. You must get out of here, regain your strength, and come back to strike him down. Use my power.”

Essan kept his eyes shut, pretending and hoping to fall asleep mid-sentence.

“Easier said than done. And I’m curious to see this through. Thanks to your mind tricks I know there’s back-up coming so, yes. I’m going to bide my time.”

“You think Arcann will let you get comfortable, at the heart of Zakuul, so close to the Eternal Throne? He will betray you, Wrath. Make no mistake...”

“Will I have to listen to you all night?” Essan growled. “Apparently I haven’t been able to sleep for five years. At least give me a day or two of absolute silence. Then we’ll talk.”

And silence he was given. Valkorion’s ethereal apparition had vanished, as if it were never there. The room was dimly lit but the golden colors of the Spire. Outside, through the wall-sized bay windows, the cityscape was a soothing sight. Essan had never been to Coruscant in person, but he had seen holovids and this looked just like it, if Coruscanti architecture was made of pyramids and pointy towers.

His mind drifted to his home back on rainy Dromund Kaas, and Tayleen’s voice and face haunted his dreams.

 

* * *

 

The hissing and crashing of lightsabers echoed in the cavern. Sounds amplified in the underground vault with its high ceiling and even the waterfall wasn’t enough to muddle the noises of the clashing weapons. She approached the sparring room hearing occasional shouts coming from the fighters. Tayleen strode past a Republic Trooper exchanging smokes with an Imperial mechanic who didn’t have time to acknowledge her passing by. She held her datapad up to her eyes again, checking once more that she hadn’t misread the encrypted message from Lana: Marr was alive.

Essan was missing. He had been freed from carbonite before Lana and Koth could get to him. They had no time to look for him and were making their way back with Darth Marr.

The sparring room was full. Contestants, students and even non Force users were standing in a circle, waiting to take their turn against the Prince of Zakuul. The brother of the Eternal Emperor. Tayleen subtly slipped between men and women alike, some were twice her height and width and barely noticed her since they were fully absorbed in the current fight. The sounds of lightsabers blocking and slashing were now very loud and she couldn’t help but stop and watch for a second.

Thexan wore his black undersuit which covered most of his upper body and even his sleeve-long tattoos. His opponent was a female Togruta Jedi sporting brown robes and a purple lightsaber, later joined by a mercenary human who used a cortosis blade to parry Thexan’s crimson lightsaber. Neither of them could corner him, he used minimal Force powers to push back his assailants. The Jedi whirled her lightsaber at him which he parried, sent it flying towards the merc.

The blade was hurling towards his head when he least expected it. There was a low gasp as the audience held their breaths. Tayleen watched wide eyes as she swore the man was going to have his head severed by the Jedi’s weapon. It was deflected at the very last second by an invisible pull of the Force. The Togruta looked horrified and in shock.

Thexan caught the hilt of the Jedi’s lightsaber and now held two ignited weapons. The mercenary lowered his guard and stood defeated against a dual-wielding Force sensitive. His expression was stern, neutral of emotion and deadly with efficiency. Tayleen didn’t know how the Force works to sense intent in people, but she always got the feeling that Thexan went into a light trance when in combat. He never showed his emotional affect, never seemed out of his depths. He had explained to her that Force users couldn’t sense his intentions and it was similar to flying blind for them.

When the sparring round was over he returned the Jedi her weapon and Tayleen came to him to show her datapad. His students made themselves scarce as he and Tayleen walked to his workbench near the rough walls. He hardly smelled of sweat despite having sparred for at least two hours. His brow lowered with concern.

“What do you make of this?” She knew his link to the Force, to Zakuul - to his brother - was key to make sense of things.

“This is troubling,” he murmured, clutching thoughtfully at the datapad. “How far are they?”

The room was now empty and silent except for the waterfall drowning out their conversation. Tayleen checked her wrist chrono.

“They should arrive before tonight. Senya stayed behind.”

“Are you alright?”

The question took her aback. She hadn’t thought of Essan affectionately in very long. He was disappeared a second time and she had already grieved him.

“I’ll manage,” she crossed her arms if only to give herself substance while feeling rather fragile. “What do you think happened?”

The look he gave her was full of preemptive remorse, a bitter warning for things she might not want to hear.

“If he was reanimated now, it’s possible that our extraction team was discovered and Arcann moved Essan to a new location.”

“At least he wouldn’t hurt him, would he?” she asked, before biting her lips. Everything that could go wrong was running through her mind.

Thexan stretched his mouth into a reserved smile and remained silent for a painful second.

“That’s not something I can pretend to know. But in the possibility that it wasn’t Arcann who took him, we have to assume that he is in danger.”

“A second extraction team wouldn’t know where to start,” she spoke out to center herself, focusing on a strategy. “If he was abducted by dissidents we can assume he’s gone for good. If he’s detained somewhere else I doubt we would have the time to reach him before anything worse happens.”

Her voice weakened and she was barely whispering her thoughts when Thexan took a step closer. She let her body lean against his between his arms and tried to remain calm.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her.

“It’s not your fault.”

When they parted she looked into his eyes. She forever regretted not being able to sense his intentions and emotions through the Force. But she had had years to learn his non-verbal language. His silence spoke louder than words.

“Give me your blessing,” he murmured just over the noise of the underground river. “Let me find him.”

She grabbed his arms, shook her head and attempted a protest.

“I won’t send you to your death. Think about the children. And the Alliance.”

“No one is better equipped than me for this task. You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He was right. She let go of him and let her shoulder drop in acceptance. She had seen him working in secret with armor crafting equipment. For months she had watched from afar as he’d built himself a new lightsaber, spending weeks on fine details. And lastly, his combat training had increased from half days to entire shifts, often on his own in the harsh Odessen wilderness.

“If you meet your brother and sister, please don’t risk your life. I would rather have you return to us than lose both of you and Essan.”

“You saved me once,” he purred, caressing her cheek with a thumb. “Now I know what happens if I’m not careful.”

She punched the back of her fist on his chest. “I’m serious, Thexan.”

His calming smile could get her lost in contemplation. She wasted no further speech in trying to talk him out of his goals.

Later that evening she had finished washing up in the kitchen. The children had been bathed and tucked into bed - she didn’t want them to be awake when Marr would arrive without their father. They surely knew something odd was going on, but it was best to wait until morning to explain everything.

She walked Thexan across the docks towards an available shuttle. It was night time, the lamps barely lit the bridge and she was thankful for the very few people out at that time. He had shaved closely and his hair was so short it looked completely blond. When they were at the foot of the loading ramp she looked up and a sliver of hope made her wish he would change his mind.

Thexan leaned down, extending a hand out from his dark cloak and held her face. His sleeve and half glove were white. His fingers were warm as they touched her skin. Batting away moisture from her eyelids, she took an unsteady breath before he kissed her. She was aware of the people and Alliance members in her surroundings, watching, stopping in their tracks.

She was the Deputy Minister of Sith Intelligence. He was a Prince of Zakuul. The Eternal Emperor’s twin.

And they had each other.

When his ship took off she instantly regretted not having spent more time with him in the relative peace of their Odessen exile. She already missed his touch, still feeling the ghost sensation of his lips upon her own. She grieved for the few moments they had spent truly enamored and blissful, being carefree was a rare luxury. She had been too worried, too involved in her work, too invested in her role as a mother. Now she stood alone on the dock, watching as the one man she loved flew towards danger. He was meeting his fate.

She had to honor her own and stay strong for her family and the Alliance. Choosing to remain in the War Room, she patiently awaited any communications and reviewed planetary scans and radar reports. Eventually, a craft was detected entering the atmosphere and she rushed out to meet the shuttle that landed in the military hangar. Tayleen wore her black and gray Imperial uniform, the same one she had when she met Darth Marr aboard the Terminus flagship.

The Dark Councilor stepped down from the ship’s ramp, wearing his crimson and black Sith armor, still wearing his mask as he always did. Lana appeared behind him, having let the Sith Lord take the lead. Koth wasn’t far behind with HK-55 and T7.

“Welcome to Odessen, My Lord,” Tayleen bowed her head, then clasped her hands in her back. Her military training kicked in unconsciously. “This is the Alliance.”

Marr looked left and right, deliberate in his movements and slow, as if he was more tired than he would let appear. He looked down at her and nodded.

“Agent, apologies are in order. Lord Skordus - Essan - has not been found.” He paused as Lana stood closer. “From my last contact with him in meditative stasis, I am only aware of his intentions to parliament with Arcann.”

Tayleen braced her shoulders at the news. Lana raised her thin eyebrows, evidently unknowing of the development.

“Do you think he succeeded in contacting him?” Tayleen inquired.

Marr hissed his response. “He did. I wasn’t present for the entirety of the exchange, but Essan took control of Valkorion’s mental manipulations. Now, it is near impossible to say what kind of deal he may have made with the new Emperor.”

Lana pinched her thin red lips. “Going deeper into the Spire would be suicide, and we’ve already accomplished it today. If what Lord Marr says is true, we have everything to fear about Lord Skordus now. He is practically possessed by Vitiate. There is no telling what may happen.”

“You don’t know that,” Tayleen retorted, refusing to accept what she was hearing.

“Where is Thexan?” suddenly asked Koth.

Tayleen gaped to say an answer but looked down and took a breath.

“He left as soon as we got your message.”

“What?” Lana scoffed, her red and yellow eyes suddenly coming ablaze.

Tayleen blinked, let a heartbeat pass before answering her shocked allies.

“He knows the Spire better than we know our own home. His training allows him to avoid detection at every point on Zakuul, he has Arcann’s exact genetic print to bypass security scanners. He even made himself a replica of Arcann’s outfit and mask... Do I need to elaborate further?”

Lana skeptically crossed her arms. “Please do.”

Their attentions turned towards the hallway as someone was striding in. Tayleen turned to see Satele Shan walking - no, jogging - to meet them. She nodded to the Grand Master but Shan didn’t even look back at her. Her clear blue eyes were set on Marr and she stood directly in front of him. One hand reached out, hesitant as she stopped mid-word and she revised her gesture.

“Satele,” Marr greeted her.

Everyone seemed puzzled at the Jedi’s behavior, herself included.

“Darth Marr,” she finally replied, clearing her throat afterwords. “It’s good to see you safe and sound.”

Tayleen recalled to herself that Shan had been in astral communication with Marr and Essan, some time ago. It had been years and no one knew what had actually been said between them.

“This day could have been victorious had Essan not been taken away.” Marr placed a hand upon his heart. “Your support to us through the Force made progress possible, but we have more to accomplish together.”

“I had sensed Valkorion’s presence, even on Odessen for a brief moment when you both were here. For years I reflected on it, and now I’m relieved he’s no longer with us.” Shan straightened her back to make herself slightly taller as she looked Marr through the mask. “Saving Essan will require more strength and courage than we have ever had. Vitiate has succeeded in taking him for his own evil doing. It is perhaps a blessing that you are here without him.”

“Essan is still one of us,” Lana protested, talking over the Sith Lord. “We are not leaving him to Arcann!”

“We do not leave our own behind,” Marr reassured her, then directed his focus on Tayleen. “You were telling us how his rescue was underway.”

Nodding sharply, Tayleen turned to invite everyone out of the hangar. Their reunion was going to attract too much interest.

“Perhaps we should move this to the War Room. I don’t want to discuss sensitive details out here.”

She could tell that Beniko was angered, and generally irritated that an operation was launched without her approval. It didn’t matter that Tayleen was her second in command, or that a decision was taken in a timely fashion to respond to an imminent crisis. The idea hadn’t come from Lana, and that was the problem for her.

When they were back in the War Room, Tayleen stood beside Lana, Koth and Theron and neither dared discuss a debriefing yet.

“Our best chance to take down Arcann has fled to Zakuul and you expect me to nod and smile,” Lana pestered. “You should have waited at least a few hours, how was that going to change anything?”

“Don’t look at me,” Theron said, both palms up. “I wasn’t part of that council.”

Tayleen placed her hands on her hips and looked at everyone while explaining.

“Thexan knows what he is doing. To wait meant to reduce our chances to find Essan alive. With Senya still on location, and the Scions siding with her we hold a good chance of having him back shortly.”

“What Satele said about Valkorion being tied to him is another thing for concern,” Koth interjected. “Care to share some ideas about how to handle that?”

Tayleen lowered her brow. The Grand Master slowly blinked her pale eyes before speaking.

“We’re not done with Vitiate, or Valkorion, as you were.”

Koth crossed his arms against his jacket. “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Emperor Valkorion was good to us, so if he’s still around with Essan, that might be just what we need to take down Arcann.”

Marr was seemingly processing the information and he used the edge of the holotable to support himself. Shan, who was watching him the entire moment, came to him. She was different and, Tayleen noted, quite nurturing for a Jedi towards a Sith.

“Five years is a long time without proper rest,” Tayleen softly said. “The Commander’s quarters are available to you, My Lord.”

“You have my thanks, Agent.”

She felt one corner of her mouth raise in a shy smile, reminiscing of a time when the Dark Councilor would put his trust in her as a secret operative. They all watched him being escorted by Satele Shan towards privacy. When they were long gone out of earshot, Theron was the new target for curious scrutiny.

“Okay, I can already hear the snarky comments about my mother. Can we go back to the matters at hand, please?”

“It’s nice,” discretely smiled Lana. “This Alliance is bringing everyone together, quite literally I might say.”

“The Jedi and the Sith,” grinned Koth, arching his back humorously, “in bed together? Or is that too far?”

Theron palmed his face, rubbing his forehead hard enough to undo his hairstyle.

“Please show some respect,” Tayleen chimed in, unable to keep a straight face. “It’s bad enough that his father-in-law was absent for more than five years.”

She had to hand it to the former SIS spy for his sense of comedic modesty, shrugging off the hazing banter as off duty stress-relief. It was the middle of the night and everyone was tired.

After dismissing the briefing session, Tayleen made her way back to the apartment she was getting used to call home. Before she reached the elevator, Theron caught up to her with a an air of worry.

“Couldn’t help but add up the numbers,” he said, joining her on the lift. “First the Commander and now Thexan... How are you holding up?”

She politely smiled back. “Ask me again when we get news from them. Right now, my children need me.”

They were halfway up the shaft towards the exit. Theron appeared to chew his gum.

“Of course... Though I was thinking it was nice that someone was waiting for them to come back.”

“Where are you going with this, Theron?”

“Only trying to make conversation about personal issues,” he defensively replied. “Since when are we not allowed to discuss non-professional topics?”

She waited for the elevator to come to a stop and exited the shaft, hoping to outrun him in walking-speed.

“I’m sorry everyone gives you a hard time because of your mother. If it’s loneliness that troubles you, would you like it if I sponsored you for a date?”

“Please,” he scoffed, “you’re messing with me again.”

“Maybe,” she playfully smirked. “But you’ve been working so hard you missed out on some of the gossip going around the cantina.”

“You better not get my hopes up, Agent.”

“Theron, you are far from hopeless.”

When finally back at her apartment, she tried her best not to wake the children by keeping all the lights dimmed and undressing in silence. She slipped into loose clothing and joined the twins in the master bed that they all shared, and without Thexan there to occupy half of the space she came to the heart-aching realization that something was amiss. Zherrys crawled to nestle into her arms while Ceyrin was sound asleep. Tayleen adjusted the blanket just under her son’s chin. They had grown used to falling asleep without their parents.

She found slumber hoping they wouldn’t have to get used to it for long.

 

* * *

_To be continued._


	17. Zakuul

Chapter 17

 

He had never been a slave.

Even as a child, the Sith masters that trained and looked after him taught him to be his own man. To strive for greatness. Even when confined to the Sith Academy on Korriban he never felt trapped or caged. There had always been a door. But even in the hardest trials death did not scare him.

It didn’t matter. He had no legacy to leave behind. Once, he had dreamed of having his own fighting clan, mercenaries and bounty hunters like his parents. But it was not what he was anymore.

The sun rose over the horizon as he finished making the bed, keeping the room clean day after day since no droids came in for maintenance. He expected Arcann to visit on a regular basis, and every time he failed to summon Valkorion. The spirit of Vitiate did not appear, but nevertheless his son left with an air of satisfaction. He would return once more, Essan knew.

He kept to his outfit routine and decided that showing his face offered little advantage and served no purpose in confronting Arcann. He would eat his two meals a day with his back turned at the surveillance camera. He would face Arcann as a man on his two feet, in perfect physical condition, showing no sign of weakness unlike the first day.

The man in white came back and Essan stood by the window. The sunrise bathed the suite with an orange atmosphere that was too soft for the circumstance.

“Your father only tells me one thing,” he told Arcann, hands clasped in his back. “I have to kill you.”

“I am not surprised since he tells me the same,” Arcann replied, diplomat in his tone. He paused, squinting in the sunlight. “What else do you know?”

Essan made a point of not replying right away. Force-sensitives could see through deceit and lies.

“He has offered me his power, multiple times. I refused.”

“Why?” His single eye widened.

Tempted to shrug, Essan walked the short distance to stand in front of Arcann. The orphaned son was breathing a little harder.

“He wants me to replace you on the Eternal Throne. Your throne. But why would I want that kind of responsibility? Why would I allow Valkorion to come close to it?”

“Indeed,” concurred Arcann, his brow furrowing as his voice turned to a growl. “Maybe he has been planning this all along.”

His hands curled and formed fists at his sides, Essan noticed, but made nothing of it. He kept eye contact with Arcann, retained his calm before speaking slowly.

“He knows you well, Arcann. He did say you would try to kill me, like you tried to kill him. It did not end well the first time.”

Looking down, Arcann then brought his attention back on him.

“What did he say?” he hissed between his teeth.

Essan squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment.

Aboard the Fury he had worked on fixing the lightsaber cut on his brother’s armor. The damage was considerable, a sign of how deep the wound had been. The black and gold-trimmed robes were identical in shape and material as Arcann’s. He saw the weapon that caused the slash across Thexan’s stomach.

He released the air in his lungs.

“You tried to kill your father, and at that moment your brother pulled you back. You turned against him but it wasn’t your fault.”

Puzzled, Arcann turned his head as if to shield his good eye from the glare of the morning sun.

“My brother betrayed me that day. We could have both killed Valkorion. We could have ruled together.”

He believed it. Essan sensed the genuine sincerity in Arcann’s words and his relaxed posture made him let go of all apprehension.

_Your misplaced faith in my son will be your undoing._

Ignoring the vision of Valkorion in the corner of his eye, Essan remained centered. He had a bigger part to play than to just serve an emperor.

Justice had to be served.

“Your brother made you live,” he boldly said. “He saved you from yourself.”

“How dare you speak of him, Outlander?” Arcann once again let the dark side take over his temper. He directed an accusing finger at him. “You know nothing of my family. Valkorion has fed you lies!”

“It wasn’t Valkorion who told me. He doesn’t care about Thexan any more than he cares about you.”

“Enough!”

The Force blaze was strong enough to make him fly across the room. Essan felt the wall crash against his back as Arcann became smaller in his field of vision. When he stood, he found himself in the dining area.

Arcann came at him was his lightsaber in hand, but it wasn’t active.

“I should have left you in your carbonite tomb.”

He couldn’t fight. His chances would vanish along with his hopes to ever see his friends again. Essan did wish to have at least Tayleen by his side before dying. He had brought his hands up in instinctive defense but he was only fooling himself. If he tried to fight back without a lightsaber, he would die.

“Arcann, stop! Listen to me. I’m sorry, Arcann, for everything you went through. For Vitiate....”

It was desperate, and he could hear or imagine the manic cackle of Valkorion in the back of his mind. Arcann was at two or three arm lengths from Essan.

“You don’t control me, father. You never did.”

Essan watched, baffled, as Arcann was holding a one-sided conversation with an invisible presence.

It never occurred to him that others could hear him speak when responding to Valkorion.

“I thought he was only in my own mind,” he spoke out.

He heard the mocking laughter again, more clearly this time while Arcann seemed to look straight at him.

“I will not liberate him. All I need to do is to have life support adjusted on your carbonite pod.”

Going back into a time-shifting dream scape with Valkorion, while life flew by for the rest of the galaxy, was out of the question.

“Listen to me,” he repeated, “you are not your father, Arcann.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he muttered.

“No, you’re right. I don’t know you. But I know your brother...”

Arcann’s attention perked up at his claim. Essan took a short breath.

“It was five years ago. He was alive, Arcann.”

He could sense his skin and bones tingle with the low vibrations of his anger. Arcann raised his left hand and compressed the cartilage in his throat. Essan braced himself and no longer felt the floor under his boots. He couldn’t breathe, instinctively clutching at his neck but knowing it would do nothing to stop the pain. He heard a lightsaber roaring into life and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Your lies will amount to nothing here,” threatened Arcann. “Do you want to die, Outlander?”

“It... doesn’t matter,” Essan struggled to reply. “Kill me, and... we all lose.”

Arcann groaned and let him drop. Coughing and catching his breath, Essan got up from his knees.

“What I said was true. You didn’t kill your brother.”

The fury was gone but Arcann’s anger and hate still made him livid. He stared down at Essan before deactivating his weapon.

“It’s too late, I may as well have.”

Essan gaped and stood speechless. He watched Arcann leave without another word.

 

*

 

He had never envisioned Zakuul to be as hot as he felt the sun rays through his armor. His eight opponents all wore golden and black armor with full helmets. Lightsaber in hand, Essan was once again whole.

But he was alone against many. Every wave of Zakuul Knights was replaced with another, and every time he did his best not to kill them.

He did his best, but he wasn’t doing well.

Anger gnawed at his gut, worsening fatigue and weakening his bond with the Force. High above the dueling grounds, standing on a balcony was Arcann, observing silently. He wasn’t going to take part in the combat.

Not until Valkorion would manifest himself.

Essan let the Knights get close, even allowed for a lightsaber spear to graze his armor, hoping to provoke a reaction from his invisible guest.

But two days passed without the slightest apparition. Essan eventually fell to his knees in the middle of inanimate bodies clad in gold. He no longer felt his own limbs and blood filled the space between his flesh and his clothes. His lungs were sand and fire. His suit’s climate control systems had gone offline to maximize energy saving. He raised up his mask and Arcann was no longer there.

He barely registered being dragged to a medbay and having his armor stripped of him to have his wounds treated. Essan would have cared to keep a semblance of pride and anonymity but he found that those didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to make it out of this place on his own terms - unless he fully committed to Arcann’s plans.

Valkorion had to cooperate, or they would both have to die there.

His borrowed suite of comfort and luxury had been an illusion. He spent the following night in the dark pit of a prison cell, below the fighting grounds. He was hungry and thirsty but he kept his mind clear with a white-hot rage to stay alive.

Decades of physical, mental challenges and warfare had hardened his spirit. He had known nothing else his entire life until the day he had met Tayleen. She had inspired a different life for him, a devotion in kindness and family. A light at the end of a tunnel of darkness and pain.

In isolation and vulnerability he thought of his children, how he’d sworn to remember them, to do right by them as their father. If dying was his only salvation, he would do so securing their future in the galaxy.

He woke in a startle. Essan uncurled from his concrete bed to find a pile of his armor and robes neatly folded at the entrance of his prison cell, and next to it sat a plate of bread and jug of water. After quenching his thirst, he quickly put on his armor, noticing its clean smell as he methodically fastened each strap and donned his belt and weapon. He bit a piece of plain bread and rinsed it down before covering his face with his mask. All systems were optimal, and he was relief to notice that no equipment had been tampered with.

He heard more than he sensed a presence, confident steps coming from the hallway towards his cell. In the darkness he spotted the white outfit of Arcann as he approached. His hatred poked the nerves behind his eyes and he readied his fists.

“It’s time to go,” he softly spoke the mask filters. “Outlander.”

Essan hissed in reply. “Where are you taking me now? To a torture chamber?”

The only visible eye once yellow was now blue, the lids narrowed and it focused on a point past him. Essan couldn’t sense his usual rage and hatred. What changed?

In the confusion, Essan couldn’t sense him at all.

“You’ve endured enough for now. Follow me.”

Unable to calm the anger building up inside of him, Essan made a conscious effort not to lash out at the son of the Eternal Emperor, right then and there, in the dark pit of this prison. It would be so easy, so quick. It would satisfy his hunger for vengeance.

It would ruin his only chance to get rid of Valkorion.

He followed Arcann out of the prison and they walked out in the night. He was surprised at his mistaken notion of time. They walked out in the open where a shuttle was waiting on a landing pad. Not a single Knight was in sight.

Suddenly, Arcann stopped and Essan stood at a respectful distance. His right hand itched next to his lightsaber. Slowly, deliberately, Arcann turned to face him.

For a long, silent minute, he stared at him and his brow raised slightly before he creased his forehead.

“Looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Essan spoke out.

His mechanical hand formed a fist and he blinked. “You must come with me at once.”

“Why the hurry?” he suspiciously asked. “Something happened, or you wouldn’t be so eager to pull me out of your experiment.”

He thought of Lana, of Theron. And maybe Tayleen, he hoped. They were coming for him and it threw Arcann off his game. He was cornered and was masking his Force presence.

He was taking him somewhere no one could find him.

His fingers tingled in his gloves. Arcann was distracted, he resumed walking towards the ship. Essan slowed his breathing, emptied his mind and focused entirely on the Force.

He wanted off this planet, and he needed every chance he could get to make it.

His lightsaber blazed with red and he lunged at Arcann. He hadn’t entirely hoped to strike him down, but slowing his plans was a start. He fought him back and Essan felt his parried strike with full force. No one had ever reacted so vividly to his assault and he paced backwards. Even while concerned with matters unknown to him, Essan was confused that Arcann was able to handle his betrayal. He had indeed warned him of this turn of events, after all.

There was no rage. There was only a concerned care to bring Essan where he wanted. He was disrupting his plan and he couldn’t even get Arcann angry.

Something _had_ changed.

Unrelenting, he pushed forward and managed to attack him at close range. His satisfaction was swiped clean as Arcann locked his saber arm, twisted it outward and struck him with an elbow to the neck. Essan lost his balance as his windpipe was blocked and panic quickly came over him.

He wasn’t in top shape. He was tired. He was desperate.

 _Valkorion_ , he thought intensely. _You betrayed me. You will let your son kill me so that you can go free._

His back met the hard ground and he saw the stars above. They sparkled and shined brightly in the dead of the night. His wonder felt suspended in time and he finally saw the unmistakably blue glow of the entity. The low-pitched laughter made his heart burn with hate.

“ _You are not worthy of destroying my son, Outlander. It appears a new opportunity has presented itself. I think I will be enjoying this._ ”

The image faded as a white-clad arm pulled him up. Essan was larger and heavier than Arcann, but Valkorion’s son had no trouble lifting his weight.

Essan could breathe again when he felt a hand slapping him between the shoulder blades. Even through his armor plating, he was instantly relieved of the suffocation and he could fill his lungs again. Hurt pride and exhaustion made him stumble.

With utter shock and surprise, Arcann supported him as they both walked towards the shuttle.

“Be quiet,” he heard him whisper through his mask. “You are safe now, Essan.”

The engines powered up and he was almost pushed onto the ship. Take-off occurred while he stood aghast in front of Arcann as his cybernetic arm blinked and faded to reveal a normal, biological arm. Both hands raised to release the seal of his mask.

Essan couldn’t form words. The face he saw was unscathed as he took a deep breath. He smiled.

“Thexan!”

The ship pushed through the atmosphere and he almost lost his balance. Someone else was piloting the shuttle. Thexan looked back at him with reserved joy before heading into the cockpit. Essan followed and blinked several times, realizing how the years had passed for the young man who felt slightly different in the Force.

A woman was at the commands. Her tight bun of dark hair and silver armor pinned her as a Knight of sorts. She looked up at Essan with soft blue eyes.

“Welcome aboard, Outlander.”

He hesitated. “Ah, thank you. Who are you?”

“I am Senya.”

Thexan grabbed a support handle on the ceiling. He radiated calm and his confidence had had Essan fooled.

“Essan, this is my mother.”

The last of the clouds and blue layers of the atmosphere faded as they reached orbit. The stars soon streaked white rays across the canopy as they hit hyperspeed.

“Where are we going?” he asked again.

“Somewhere safe,” replied Senya, she looked up with a raised dark eyebrow. “I sense him... He is here.”

“You can sense who?” Essan tentatively asked.

“Valkorion,” she flatly replied. “His presence is unmistakable. I should know...”

Bitter regret overcame him as he felt Senya’s state of mind. Her voice was deep, soft and slightly nostalgic. Thexan, on the other hand, remained silent.

“When I struck him down, Valkorion did not actually die,” he explained. “His spirit resides in my head but my mind is my own.”

Thexan bore a slight grimace on the left side of his face as his eyes averted him. Essan started to lose patience.

“I’ve been gone for five years, talk to me. Where are my children and their mother?”

A crease formed between his eyebrows before Thexan lead him towards the back of the ship. They stood face-to-mask in the passenger cabin.

“You will see your children, I promise, but I must be certain my... _father_ won’t be able to harm them. When he died his power radiated throughout Wild Space, affecting the twins and myself.”

“I won’t allow him to do anything to them,” Essan sternly spoke. He thought of the time he missed as they had grown in his absence. “Describe them to me.”

“They take after you in strength and wisdom. Teaching them is a privilege.”

He could now feel what Thexan felt. He was overcome with grief and worry, and had he not known about his past Essan swore he felt guilt.

“You made me swear to protect them,” quietly said Arcann’s brother, his blue eyes searching his, even though they weren’t visible. “I won’t let anyone stand in my way, do you understand?”

Essan smirked behind his mask, satisfied with the other man’s earnest sense of duty.

“And what of Tayleen? Is she alright?”

Thexan lowered his gaze and turned away, looking for a seat. “Yes. She is assisting with Intelligence operations from our headquarters. She helps run the base.”

“While being a mother, sounds like a handful.” Essan sat opposite from him on a jump seat. “What are you not telling me, Thexan?”

He sat straight on his seat, eyes level as if he was preparing for an interrogation. Essan frowned with distaste. His place was not here on a rescue mission. Essan had told him to stay with her.

“Five years is a long time in hiding, hoping to see you return. I worry about how my father’s presence will affect us all.”

“Let me worry about him,” assured Essan, dissatisfied with the misdirection. “You’ve done enough.”

Thexan looked back at him skeptically and added no more. There was much Essan needed to know and wanted to ask. Time was running slow now, as it should have been for the past five years.

Everyone had changed, he reminded himself, while he believed himself to be the same. He could wait a few hours.

 

* * *

 

The ship was silent now that they made their way through hyperspace back to base. Leaving Zakuul so soon, without having spoken to Arcann or even laid his eyes on his brother, Thexan felt the nagging feeling pulling him back to his first home.

Arms crossed, legs stretched in front of him in the pilot’s seat he pondered the memories of his latest venture. Thexan had shed the imitation of Arcann’s outfit to clothe himself with one of his own spare outfits of dark slacks and non-descript fitted jacket. None of his regal fashion choices in the Spire were ever met with such modesty.

“You always looked more handsome in black,” commented Senya. His mother was standing behind him, having come back from the passenger’s cabin without a sound. She sat down and gave him a sad smile. “One day, you will be reunited with your siblings again. We can still be a family.”

He took in a breath. _I have my own family._ Her kind stare was now directed to the canopy.

“We will have war,” he responded. “Such is the nature of man. It’s what we’ve always known.”

“You have fought enough, Thexan. I want us to find a new life, this is the chance we were given.”

He met her gaze and weighed his thoughts as they came to his mind, dreading her judgment as a young boy would.

“I found my chance with Tayleen. She saved me before I even knew it.”

When his mother never could save her own children. Senya pierced him with her pale eyes as if she had heard his last thought.

“If you love her, you must let her choose to be with the father of her children. Even after years, believe me... She still has feelings for him. You must set her free.”

It stung him, if that was the goal she had fired an easy shot. Ignoring the pain and the tightness in his heart, Thexan decided to spare her a reply. She continued.

“Being grateful for a new deal in life doesn’t require your entire devotion to her. You are still young and deserving of someone who is willing to share their future with you, to build your own family.” She paused, her face expressing a near alarmed emotion that he felt himself. “I only want what is good for you, Thexan.”

On any other day, he would have lost his calm and expressed how revolting it was that yet another one person would criticize his private life. Yet, he couldn’t find the energy to even be mad at his mother.

“I’m sure,” he replied, giving her an approving nod. “But it was never been about me alone, I know you understand, Mother.”

Her eyes seemed darker as she sat and stared agape at him. He did not explain himself further, and the burning anguish rising in him turned his hard expression to stone.

He could not be officially united with Tayleen, but he couldn’t either return to his brother. And now his mother was stirring him in another direction. It felt as if he did not belong anywhere.

“We’ve spent five years building a home and securing our future together,” he went on. “I’m not turning my back on her.”

 

*

 

The stormy weather had brought rain over the base. Odessen was humid in the winter, turning the cold air damp and smelling of acrid metal inside the hangar. A small crowd had gathered to welcome home Essan, Darth Skordus - the Outlander of Zakuul. The one who killed Emperor Valkorion.

Essan was a hero. Thexan felt honored to introduce him to the Alliance as he walked down the boarding ramp.

Spotting Satele Shan, Darth Marr, Lana, Theron, Koth... his eyes found the orange-skinned Twi’lek he was desperate to see and she pinched her lips, beaming with reserve. She wore her dark gray uniform with no emblems.

As Essan set foot on the ground she walked up to him and smiled. They joined hands for an instant, then she took a step back to better look up at the father of her children.

“Tayleen,” was Essan’s first word.

“It’s good to see you.” She breathed in. “Welcome home.”

“Welcome to the Alliance,” added Lana, walking up to Essan, she radiated with her professional manners. “Everyone here has been expecting you.”

Scanning the hangar and the crowd of faces, Essan nodded at Marr, then looked at Lana and Theron.

“Thank you. I see you kept busy.”

Those who were close enough to hear let out a short laughter.

“This is your faction,” spoke out Marr, taking a step forward. “Empire, Republic, independents and outlaws... All have rallied to join the fight against Zakuul. Including members of the royal family.”

“We couldn’t ask for more,” sharply nodded Lana. “Yet a lot of work needs to be done. The war is barely starting, as you can see we lack proper numbers and arsenal.”

“I am honored,” Essan responded. “But the war has only begun. Arcann and Vaylin will come to hunt us down if we do not take the fight to them.”

“We won’t let ourselves be caught by surprise this time,” Marr assured, crossing his arms against his chest plate. “And what of Vitiate? How do we compose with his lingering presence among us?”

“Leave that to me,” replied Essan.

Thexan sensed the rise in anxiety across the hangar. “We will find a way to get rid of him. My mother and I will make sure of it.”

They moved the reunion towards the War Room. Lana took point and even if the holoprojector wasn’t displaying key intel at that time, they gathered around it for support and support. Essan showed interest in the galactic map that showed the advancement of the Eternal Fleet.

“Arcann told me he wanted to conquer the entire galaxy,” he recounted pensively. “He wanted to use me as his muscle, to have his father obeying his directives. Separating Valkorion from my mind was not on the table until the very end, before Thexan came to pick me up.”

He couldn’t brush away the image of a beaten and tired Rattataki male rotting in a prison cell. Thexan kept his face neutral and looked at the map.

“He sought to pressure me into using your father’s power in combat. I resisted for as long as I could. Had you not come for me, I don’t know what I would have done to survive.”

“Are you getting sentimental with me, Lord Wrath?” Thexan playfully asked.

He caught a shy smile on Lana’s lips. Essan straightened his back.

“Valkorion has been testing me in his own ways, perhaps he knows I couldn’t be easily swayed. I am suspecting that his influence could come up any time to turn me against you.”

Processing the information, Thexan clammed up and nodded sharply. He met the silent questioning of Tayleen across the briefing table which she grasped at the edge with slightly trembling fingers. He had never known her to be nervous. As the gathering went on, each fiber in his body begged to go to her but reason kept him in check.

“He spent the last part of his life dividing my family,” Thexan concurred. “I see nothing has changed.”

“I assure you,” said Satele to Essan, “freeing you from the grip he has on your mind is our top priority. Our best healers and engineers are working on it as we speak.”

“If all else fails,” Marr continued, “remember you will never be alone in this fight.”

Thexan observed the gathering and sensed the renewed hope and optimism rising in each and everyone around the table.

“I may need some time to adjust,” Essan replied with a nod, his fatigue showed even through the full body armor. “I trust this Alliance can function without me?”

All eyes turned to Thexan. He looked back at Darth Marr, then Lana who simply blinked her piercing eyes.

“We have been waiting for you a long time,” Lana told Essan. “But we can manage. Thexan has lead us through thick and thin, he turned this place into a sanctuary.”

“Not to mention saving my life,” Essan finished. “If it’s a commander you need, look no further.”

He clenched his teeth and fixed his attention upon the holographic table, feeling all eyes on him.

“The more pressing matter is Arcann,” he told the assembly, moving his concerns to a new topic. “If my mother was able to find me here five years ago, then my siblings can. The only insurance we have is if they still believe I’m dead, but I wouldn’t underestimate them.”

Essan’s mask moved slightly in another direction. Waiting, Thexan heard Lord Marr add his incentive.

“Then we must prepare for an invasion, or take the fight to them.”

General Aygo furrowed his whiskers. “Not with this sort of compound and low numbers. We need to come out strong if we’re to be revealed at all. Where are we with recruitment?”

“We have solid leads and troops ready to join us,” Theron answered, leaning over the table and displayed the portrait of a female with a Zakuulan criminal file. “It might not be the best time to bring this up, but we made contact with a potential ally, on Zakuul even.”

Thexan caught sight of Tayleen’s surprised reaction.

“Her nickname is Firebrand,” Theron continued. “Do you know her?”

Changing her footing, Tayleen eyed the gathered people around her and seemed to mull over her answer.

“She was my partner during my time as an operative. Her name is Kaliyo Djannis... What has she done now? On Zakuul?”

“Blowing up buildings, inciting unrest, causing chaos in general.”

Tayleen’s lips curled and it almost looked like mockery. “Typical. I didn’t think she would get involved in this war, that’s what surprises me.”

Theron took a moment to study her face and squinted his eyes.

“Do you think you could convince her to put her skills to good use?”

“I haven’t spoken to her in a long time,” she replied hesitantly. “But she would listen to me.”

Senya furrowed her brow and her hard expression made Theron take a step back.

“You are talking about a terrorist,” Senya protested. “She is responsible for hundreds of deaths on Zakuul. She must be brought to justice, not recruited into our ranks.”

“Many of us have done more than questionable things,” Marr intervened. He waved his hand over the table. “Zakuul is just one world, and we are working to prevent the destruction of countless others. Your allegiance to us requires some level of sacrifice.”

“Lord Marr is right,” concurred Satele Shan. “If this Firebrand can help us distract Arcann’s forces, it’s a possibility worth investigating. Agent Pansahu, my son speaks highly of you and I trust his judgment.”

“I’ve said my piece,” Senya retorted as she crossed her arms against her armor plate. “I hope you’ll do what’s necessary to stop the slaughter of my people.”

Looking down, Tayleen raised her ocean eyes with mixed emotions before nodding.

“I will have to talk to her alone. Kaliyo is extremely intelligent, but reckless and... vindictive. She won’t trust anyone else.”

“Going on a mission alone is reckless in itself,” said Thexan, remaining cautious while his heart was sinking. Tayleen looked back with confidence. “It might be what we need to tip the balance in our favor.”

“I appreciate that.” Tayleen, aloof and coldly professional, crossed her arms and placed her attention on Essan. “I have to make arrangements. Essan?”

He slowly nodded and excused himself before following Tayleen.

They left the briefing while an uncomfortable silence took place and Thexan let out his breath when they were out of earshot.

“We could all use some time to center ourselves,” declared Satele as she faced Marr for an instant. “Lord Marr and I will begin a meditation technique to fight against Vitiate’s power over Essan’s mind. It could be a lengthy process.”

“By all means,” Theron commented, avoiding to look at his mother. His face reddened. “And place a tag on your door so nobody won’t walk in on your... _meditation_. Again.”

“Theron...”

Marr leaned to better look at him. “We will use our best efforts not to be disrupted during our work, son.”

Theron buried his face in his hand while everyone stood in awkward silence and smiling amused.

The meeting was adjourned to leave each party to their business and Thexan went back into the shuttle. He opened a storage cabinet in the small private quarters, pulled out a pot of soil which he had saved prior to the mission in the Spire, before infiltrating his family’s home. _His_ home.

He swallowed down the bitter resentment that had been building up inside of him for the past hour. He found the clear bag that contained a green leafy plant which had not yet bloomed, and set its foot delicately in the pot of dark soil. Using the tap from the refreshers he watered the plant before taking it with him.

Vaylin had loved the red and fiery flowers produced by this specimen. He wondered if she still tended her gardens. When he made his way towards the apartments he crossed paths with his fencing students who nodded and smiled, others crooked an eyebrow at what he was carrying.

Zherrys and Ceyrin greeted him with hugs when he passed the apartment door. Taking a knee, he pulled out a pair of holodisks from his jacket pockets and they cheered with excitement. The twins loved their games and he made a point to bring them new entertainment regularly.

Essan was still there, seated at the dining table with Tayleen, drinking tea. He was hoodless and maskless. It was the first time Thexan saw him uncovered in the presence of his former lover. He could sense relief within the twins, and they seemed generally wary of Essan even though their small faces showed none of their doubts.

He had taught them concealment of their Force presence, but not only that.

They returned to playing with their hologaming cubes on the mat in the lounge area.

“Thexan,” Tayleen called and poured a third cup of tea. “Come, sit with us.”

He bit down on his molars and obeyed, clutching the plant in his left arm. Essan eyed him with unveiled suspicion before speaking.

“It’s a nice home you made here.”

Breathing shallowly Thexan looked over at Tayleen and found her eager and supportive expression.

“It was a group effort,” he told the Sith.

Resting his back against the chair, Essan kept on eying him almost defiantly. There was a cold distance in the his glare, an emotional detachment that made his Force presence feel like an icy breeze.

Thexan placed the potted plant in the middle of the table but far enough so as not to disrupt the reunion.

“This is for you,” he said to neither specifically. “It gives very nice flowers in the warm season.”

He couldn’t go anywhere. The refreshers was too blunt a choice. The bedroom? A tactless alternative.

“Thexan,” spoke Tayleen with an edge to her voice. “We were talking about my deployment to Zakuul. I should go without you, as you know, because the children will need one of us at home.”

“One of us should still go with you,” he replied.

Essan took his cup and brought it up to his chest. “I would go with her,” he eyed Thexan. “But the price on my head is too high, I wouldn’t be of much use. Also consider the fact that I want to get to know the children.”

He took a sip of the hot beverage, not once letting Thexan out of his sight. Steeling his expression he looked back to Tayleen who seemed taken aback and folded her arms against her breast.

“Then I won’t be alone,” she sighed and looked back at Thexan. “Are you sure about this?”

Nodding, he narrowed his eyelids and saw that the twins had stopped playing and were looking in direction of the adults talking.

“We both need it,” he replied to her calmly. “I will be wearing my own mask, as a wise man instructed me.”

Essan smirked and with a gloved hand gave a heavy pat on his shoulder. “If you are half as good as you showed me today, there’s no doubt you’ll both be back in one piece.”

Thexan smiled at the compliment and pensively fumbled his fingers together while he formulated his next thought.

“The Alliance needs someone of your caliber to inspire morale. People can see themselves in you.” He met Tayleen approving glare before taking a short breath. “The rank of Commander belongs to you, Essan.”

Nostrils flaring, Essan got up from his chair and took care to place it back under the table. “We’ll talk about this when you return from Zakuul. I could use some down time for now, take in the sights.”

“Of course...”

“Let us walk you to your apartment,” Tayleen suggested.

 

* * *

 

Night time eventually let them part from their friend as he got acquainted to his newly assigned home located on the same floor. The children were put to bed and Thexan was in the kitchen putting away dishes and cleaning the counter. He greeted her with a pinched smile as Tayleen sat at the small table against the wall.

Thexan thoughtfully came to sit across from her and his eyes dropped as he offered to hold her hands. They were warm and moist from the washing. “Will you be alright?” he asked quietly.

Tayleen sighed and tried to sit up straight. “I think so. I have to be.”

He gave her a skeptical look, one corner of his mouth stretching bitterly as he rubbed his thumb over her palm.

“Any lingering feelings, thoughts that might keep you awake?”

She scratched the side of her neck and tried to recall exactly how seeing Essan again affected her.

“I didn’t think I’d manage to face him again,” she shared. “It’s been so long, so much has happened, too. Maybe I’ve changed.”

“You had time to prepare.”

“That’s true...” She let her thoughts trail, eyes lurking over his forearms. “I forgot to ask you about the mission. Have you met your brother or sister?”

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. She couldn’t look away from his tattoos. Vaylin had the same done to her, he had said. His sister was changed against her will and he had asked her captors that he would get the same markings, a mark of empathy. He was forever linked to her that way.

“I’m glad you asked,” he cryptically replied, “I wouldn’t have told you otherwise that I did meet my sister.”

A chill ran down her spine and making her lekku twitch nervously. Tayleen clenched her jaw.

Thexan raised his eyes towards the door entrance.

“She almost recognized me.”

 

*

 

“ _She knew right away that something was wrong.”_

 

“You’ve changed since you thawed the outlander,” she accused, her bright yellow eyes narrowing.

Thexan kept his wits alert and especially tuned to the Force to mask his true identity. She could not see through the holographic projection of the cybernetic left arm, but she could try to sense through the veil of his Force cloak.

“It’s like you’re not yourself anymore.”

Standing on the terrasse outside the royal penthouse, Thexan faced his sister through a replica of his brother’s mask, finding that his vision was slightly impaired while he breathed with difficulty. His voice, filtered through electronic modulators, sounded deeper and foreign, while the new tone was much more familiar. He was using Arcann’s own disguise, and he feared that Vaylin would see through it any second.

“He had me thinking about a lot of things,” he replied to her, taking on a thoughtful tone. “I have to temper myself if we want to work with him.”

“It’s you who decided on that alone, Arcann,” she spat. “Why aren’t you trying to destroy him? Why won’t you get rid of father once and for all?”

She spoke the word with such disgust that Thexan lost grasp of her meaning. She stepped around the balcony like a preying animal. Her hatred and rage were building up, he sensed her power sending chills all around them, making his fingertips tingle.

“I know what you’re doing. Ever since Thexan died, you kept searching for ways to roll back into the past, brother. Oh, how naive you can be. Even the outlander would laugh at you.”

“I’m not trying to change the past,” Thexan tentatively said, ignoring the pinch in his chest. Restraining the tears budding between his eyelids. “If I ever need your help, I will let you know, little sister.”

Vaylin stopped dead in her tracks, and turned an alarmed look towards him. Her anger-filled eyes widened and somehow their color went tame. She parted her darkened lips to speak.

“Thexan used to call me that...”

He nearly lost balance with the realization. He muted himself mentally, to keep himself from expressing how much he missed her. She couldn’t know that he was alive, that he had been alive for five years.

It was not yet the time to tell her that he thought of her and Arcann every single day.

“I miss him too,” he finally said, as grimly and bitterly as he possibly could. “Wallowing won’t bring him back.”

He decided to walk away and take the long way out of the estate. His shuttle could wait a few more minutes by the time he would get back from his quarters.

Vaylin had sensed him, she had projected her fears and desires over her perceptions, but she still had caught a glimpse. Thexan could not shake the awful feeling of taking advantage of her troubled mind to get away from her scrutiny.

 

*

 

“Seeing her again, more than being on Zakuul, has brought back a lot of memories.” He rubbed his forehead with the back of a hand. “She told me something about father, and when I found Essan I sensed him. His presence is unmistakable.”

“Valkorion? Is he really here?” Tayleen was hesitant and puzzled.

Thexan bit his upper lip and nodded quickly. “He deceived us once again, Tayleen. I’m convinced he is not gone and I worry for Essan, but especially for the children. Essan assured me there was no danger but I know my father. I--” He interrupted himself to take a breath. “I died seeing his true nature.”

She couldn’t stay docile and worry on speculations. She grabbed one of his wrists to catch his eyes. “Thexan, you have to tell me if we have to do something.”

He looked at her as if exiting a trance and he pinched his mouth into a shy smile.

“This is my legacy, to bring my father to justice. Arcann and I should have destroyed him, together. This is my chance to finish what my brother started.”

Deliberately taking in a breath, she couldn’t repress a disapproving frown from her face. They were back at the beginning after years of uncertainty and hard work, once again threatened by the same evil, and when she held his hands she found a strange comfort in this disturbance. It was a familiar feeling; surviving was uncomplicated.

“It’s not your task alone, you’ll have us all at your side. You will have me, I will be there.”

“I will confront my brother,” he replied, “I have to.”

“It can wait,” she defensively retorted. “We’re not ready to lose you, Thexan. I won’t allow it, even if it means facing death by your side.”

He gently squeezed her in his palms and she looked down at his clutching hands, cutting her plead short.

“Bringing you home with me is all I ever wanted,” he murmured.

It had never been enough: to survive death, to recover from wounds, to raise a family, to build a home and to rally the forces of the galaxy in one place. Had none of it mattered to him?

“But this is home,” Tayleen corrected, softly sliding her hands out of his loosening grip.

She stood and he got up to join her towards the living room but she stayed near the kitchen window. She didn’t want the automatic light sensors to wake up the children; their bedroom door was kept open at night.

“My heart belongs to you,” he told her pressingly, “but I must restore peace in my family. It’s clear to me now that my place can’t be with you for as long as Arcann and Vaylin are corrupt by our father’s power.” He reached for her face and touched her cheek, sadness washing over his eyes as her own vision began to blur. “We are more similar than you know, dearest Tayleen.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, touching his hand that was making her face warm. “Why are you telling me these things?”

He closed in to place a kiss upon her temple and he sighed deeply. The sounds and scent of him made her head spin and her heart beat inside her ribcage.

“We were made to be weapons, we can thrive only in battle.”

She tightly closed her eyes and tried not to think of the vibroblade she had concealed on her at all times.

“I’m losing my mind here,” she said, agreeing. “If you go, wherever you go, I will follow.”

Guilt ate at her as she spoke those words and summoned morbid thoughts.

“You are tearing me apart,” Thexan whispered as he wrapped her in his arms, and she gasped when she felt his body pressing against hers. “Tayleen.”

She knew she was losing reason in his embrace, feeling transported back five years when she barely knew him. His lips pressed against her neck, exhaling warmth that caused her to shiver.

He repeated himself lavishly. “Tayleen...”

“Yes?” she could only breathe.

His shining eyes were a dark swirl of blue when she tried to decrypt his thoughts. His hands grasped at her back as distress washed over him.

“Marry me,” he hoarsely whispered. “Right now. I can’t wait anymore.”

Panic was stronger than she could fight it, and even while she knew this moment was bound to happen she couldn’t find her courage. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she bit her lips to stay quiet. The children...

He brushed the tears from her face and pressed his forehead against hers. Sobbing, she blamed herself eternally for how she made him suffer for five years.

She was not worthy of him. She was a coward.

“I can’t let you do this,” she bitterly said, squeezing her eyelids shut. “You can’t.”

Her face was held up by him as she was made to look at Thexan and he stared hard at her.

“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do. Do you love me?”

“Yes--” she began.

“That’s all I need,” he nervously interrupted her. He took a step back, gave her space. “You have nothing to do.”

“After so long, you’ve done so much for me already,” she protested in a tone that sounded more weak than she wanted. “I want you to be free, for once in your life.”

He smiled and she feared that he would mock her attempt to show respect. Had he no dignity left because of her?

“You freed me from my poisonous family and took me in, made me feel like a man.”

“The past doesn’t justify foolish actions, Thexan.”

“Five years is long enough to think it through.” He stretched out a hand and took her in his arms again and she let out a breath of relief. “Let me be your husband. Please, Tayleen.”

He searched her eyes intensely while she recalled the countless times she had secretly thought of him as her beloved. Her protector. Her _everything_. It made her lips tremble to realize he never knew that he had always been hers.

“I will,” she quietly answered, “I will marry you.”

She felt him brushing over her lekku and his heartbeat resonated against her breast. He pressed against her until her back was against the window sill.

They hadn’t kissed like this in a long time. Out of breath, shaking with physical need, almost dizzy, Tayleen let his hands explore her beneath her uniform shirt. Sitting on the edge of the window, she helped him undo his belt, continued to kiss him so as to mute his grunting as she touched him in places.

He ended up against the wall and she ignored the pain in her knees as she felt him inside her mouth and throat, keeping him over her tongue as his veins pulsed eagerly.

“I should have proposed to you sooner,” he sighed, “and more often.”

She closed her eyes as he caressed her face, Tayleen clenched at her groin until he released and it was over earlier than expected. His hesitant concern as he caught his breath, the way he pressingly pulled her up for another kiss sent her mind into a frenzy.

“The children,” she said. “We can’t wake them up.”

Smiling, she felt him nestling his face in her neck as he settled down, hugging her in the process of slowing his heart rate.

“We have a long day tomorrow.”

“And you probably need to rest, too,” she agreed, regretfully letting her hand run down his chest. The prospect of spending time with him made her smile. “I can’t let my husband get tired on the field.”

He let out a satisfied hum of approval. “We’ll have plenty of down time on the way there.”

Remembering her combat preparation routine took some effort. In the morning she had barely slept more than a few hours, finding a slumbering man by her side she dared not wake him. She started on breakfast for the children then reviewed her operative gear.

Tayleen settled for her black and dark red mercenary style with a scarf and short cloak. While getting dressed on the bed side she was aware of Thexan wearing only a towel coming out of the refreshers and he moved behind her. She felt his warm hands around her bare waist as she was about to pull on her top.

He smelled of soap and cologne, his face was shaven clean and fresh when he kissed her neck.

“Good morning.”

She was about to answer back when a sudden concern rose in her gut.

Good things never lasted very long for her. They had been stretching their luck. Something was going to happen.

The sunlight reflected in his eyes when she faced him. In five years she had never found him as comforting as then.

“I feel ready,” she told, “but I worry for you.”

He kindly smirked. “I appreciate but I share that feeling, too.”

She got dressed and picked up her tactical belt. “If anything goes wrong we cancel the mission and both return home. No risk-taking.”

He silently looked over her equipment laid out on the bed while she finished putting on her clothes. She watched him take her vibroblade, sliding it out of its holster for examination. Did he know how many times she had contemplated using it on herself, in the past? She pinched her lips and turned to pick up her boots from the floor of the closet.

Those feelings no longer meant anything now. They had work to do.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 


End file.
